


How Strange, Innocence

by Shivaliszt



Category: Naruto
Genre: Civilian OC, Second Shinobi War, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shivaliszt/pseuds/Shivaliszt
Summary: A normal person appears in the Naruto universe. How does it actually happen? What happens when a normal person who knows nothing about the world they've just entered is dropped into the middle of a shinobi village?Waking up on the ledge in a village of paranoid ninja with knowledge of who you are, where you came from, and not speaking the same language as them can be quite the problematic situation. After the Second Shinobi War, a failed seal transports a civilian from our world to the Shinobi Realms.





	1. Chapter 1: First Breath After Coma

# Chapter One:  
First Breath After Coma

 

* * *

 

The day was ending, darkening the skies. Streetlamps and car headlights provided the only useful light. If it wasn’t enough that I worked for a factory where even in the administration workers started before the sun rose and finished after it set, it was also raining today. The windshield wipers of my old car beat back and forth as fast as they could to try and keep the rain from blocking my view. A podcast played over the speakers of my car, providing a replay of a news segment which I missed every day while I was in the office. I listened idly, trying to take note of what they were talking about. Why I lived as far from my work as I did, I wasn’t sure, but it required something besides just music to keep my mind engaged so that I didn’t start to drift on the long drive. After one too many close calls where I found myself dozing off while driving, I had to figure out a way to keep myself alert. Podcasts seemed to do the trick.

Two sedans sped past in the next lane going far too fast in the heavy rain. They could have been racing one another, I wasn’t really sure. To be honest, most of the traffic was going too fast for how heavy the rain was. The Interstate was notorious for jamming, and they would be hard-pressed to stop fast enough if we came up on one.  An eighteen-wheeler rig in front of me was going slower than the rest of traffic, so I tabbed the blinker on my car, getting ready to pass.

The rig twisted to the side, jackknifing so that the cab was faced the wrong way as it forced to the side by the momentum of the trailer. It slid off to the side of the road. I panicked and stomped my foot down on the brake of the car, watching in front of me as what the rig was trying to avoid came into view.

A glowing black and yellow sphere, at least twenty feet tall, cast its own bright yellow light across the highway. The sphere was yellow on the outside, with tendrils twisting like a spiral in the darkness of the center, devoid of color.

The bald tires of my car failed to grip well on the asphalt, hydroplaning my car closer and closer to the sphere. I watched in horror not able to control my body as I overcorrected the steering in terror trying to avoid it. The old sedan swerved to the side and my car stopped sideways in the lane, just feet away from the sphere. I had only a moment of relief before movement to my right side caught my eye and a car which had been behind me slammed into the right side of my car. I didn’t even have time to scream as my body jerked violently – seatbelt locked, holding me in place – from the momentum as my car was propelled the last few feet, pushing my car drivers’ side first into the sphere. The last thing I saw was blinding yellow light consuming me from the left.

 

* * *

 

**Unknown Date, Unknown Time  
Unknown Location**

 

* * *

 

‘What is going on?’

No other thought flew through my mind. Cold air buffeted me, howling in the black darkness of night. I was on a ledge, maybe six feet across, and beyond it was an inky darkness.

‘How did I get here?’

Nothing.

Blank.

Nothing was coming to mind. What had I been doing before this? No. it's not possible. A sinking feeling started to crawl up from the pit of my stomach threatening to choke me. I can't remember anything. What’s my name? How did I get here? Where is here?

My neck hurt, the muscles sore and locked into place. My chest burned with pain when I breathed in and out.

My vision started pulsing with little black dots as I leaned forward onto my knees and started hyperventilating. A few moments later my stomach roiled, and I leaned forward and vomited.

I looked over the side of my little ledge, glanced, really. The wind clawed at me and made my eyes dry and start to water. As my eyes adjusted, the pitch blackness of night turned slightly, and I started to discern light. There was a city below me sparkling and shimmering with thousands of little lights, each one blurring together with the tears filling my rapidly drying out eyes. My head felt light and packed full of fluff. I was scared to move an inch; the ledge was so small. I screamed for help but the wind caught my words and threw them away. I screamed again and again. No one came. No one responded.

I felt the world tilt as my vision bled fully into black, the shimmering twinkling lights of the city below disappearing.

* * *

It was still dark when I woke up.  My eyes were sealed shut and it took a few moments to them open. My eyelashes brushed uncomfortably against rough fabric. I was slowly beginning to realize, panic rising in my stomach, that I was sitting in a chair with my hands tied behind my back, wrists and fingers numb, and a blindfold covering my face. The thick rough feeling in my mouth wasn’t a severe hangover, it was a gag.

I moved my head slightly, regretting it almost instantly as I felt the soreness in the muscles. I groaned at the feeling.

From behind me, I heard a deep rough male voice. I couldn't understand what he said.

Footsteps sounded as they circled around in front of me. The gag was roughly yanked out, dragging against my teeth and leaving a bad taste of rotten eggs.

I cracked my chapped lips. "Water, please," I moaned out softly.

My cheek stung and my head snapped to the side. They, whoever they were, had slapped me. I felt nauseous and I could feel the blood rushing through my temples and my smarting cheek.

Several voices spoke around me, one shouting. I cringed into the seat. A more menacing deep voice started talking and saying what sounded like questions.

Then repeated again. "Anata deska?" A large hand roughly grabbed my chin. " _Anata deska?"_  It repeated louder this time.

I started crying. "I'm sorry," I whimpered. "I don't understand you."

"Anata deska?" Louder again, bordering on a shout.

"Please, I don't understand you," I pleaded. That just earned me another blow to the face and a punch to the stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs and I doubled forward as far as my bound arms would let me, unable to breathe.

" ** _Anata deska?_** " Was repeated once again, a shout this time, and accompanied by someone kicking over the chair I was in. A lot of other words were repeated but I only recognized those two as they were the most repeated.

I was crying; I didn't care. I kept begging them to let me go and they kept screaming at me in that foreign language of theirs. At times they would hit me, kick me, I wasn't sure. A knife was held to my neck. I felt the razor sharp edge slice into my bare skin in a long thin line as whoever held it questioned me again. My wrist snapped as they hauled me back up into a sitting position but it only joined the rest of the hurt I was feeling. Blood pounded in my ears. I couldn't think.

Sometimes when they asked a question it would be delivered in a soft tone of voice, like they were merely asking about the time of day, or if I would prefer spaghetti or pizza for lunch. Sometimes they would scream at me like they were about to put a bullet in my head. Every question was accompanied by a blow.

Always.

I almost broke in that place. I still wonder how I didn't. Maybe I did. I’m really not sure of much anymore.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally got the idea for this story from The Witcher 3 from the scene when Ciri is telling Geralt about all of the strange and different worlds she traveled to. It’s even canon (with some additional fan speculation) that Catriona Plague is actually Bubonic Plague that Ciri spread from our Medieval Europe to Cintra when fleas hitched a ride back to her world on her jacket. So, suspending disbelief for a moment, what if there are infinite universes and our stories, and theirs, are all really different overlapping universes? Where is the dimension that Obito’s eyes access? Where do summoning seals grab creatures from? What happened in those dimensions Kagura sucked Naruto and Co. into during their epic battle? Did they exist before or did she create them?  
> The AU: Okay, so this is where the story is going to start going AU. For one, I have never like the reasoning of the Uchiha clan’s ‘curse’. I always felt like it was a cop-out explanation for why Sasuke and Madara were so fucked up in the head. Instead of just saying those two were crazy, Kishimoto had to make up this whole thing about how the whole Uchiha clan is inherently unstable and that they’ll all fly off the rails eventually. The Curse of Hatred was a little much for me. That’s just not how people work, and while mental illness can run in families, that profound level of mental instability? In a world as brutal as Naruto? They wouldn’t have made it far enough to become a clan, much less the founding clan of the first hidden village. They’d have kamikaze’d themselves to death first. Also, how in the hell did the Senju go from being such a prolific, powerful founding clan to just Tsunade? I honestly just get the feeling that Kishimoto made up a lot as he went along and didn’t create enough backstory beforehand.  
> So, in How Strange, Innocence, the Senju are still around in force. Significantly, since the Uchiha aren’t psychos here, Madara and Izuna are still around as crotchety old men who advise the Uchiha clan and the village at large.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2: Catastrophe and the Cure

# Chapter 2:

#  _Catastrophe and the Cure_

 

* * *

**  
**

 

_Sometimes I was so messed up and didn't have a clue. I ain't winning anyone over—I wear it just for you—I've got your name written here in a rose tattoo. In a rose tattoo, in a rose tattoo, I've got your name written here, in a rose tattoo._

* * *

It was actually rather amazing how that blindfold hadn't shifted, hadn't moved once in this whole ordeal. Even after every time they'd hit me in the face, knocked my chair over, punched me, that blindfold stayed on.

I assessed what I could. Something wet trickled down my cheek from a stinging diagonal area. Most likely a gash on my head. One of my shoulders felt dislocated and the other broken at the upper arm and the wrist along with several fingers. I kept cataloging the various injuries of nicks and bruises all over me. After a while the pain blurred together and what I could only assume was shock descended over it all, weighing it down like a heavy blanket so that I could barely think.

A door creaked open behind me, maybe twenty feet away, and heavy booted feet came through. Three people, maybe four. This wasn’t something I was good at discerning. Two stopped a good ways behind me while a third walked closer and came to rest in front of my little chair.

I braced myself for the first blow cringing away. Tears ran down my face again, and I was ashamed that I was crying before we had even started.

The blow never came.

A large hand gently came to rest on the crown of my head. This was a psyche game, I knew it. After all the blows there was no wa—

_Oh, God, the pain._

What I can only explain as a spike of energy split through my forehead driving into the center of my brain.

Oh, but it  _hurt!_

Underneath the pain something moved. A pressure, like something or someone was in there with me. Blonde and a glimpse of a face that I wasn’t seeing with my eyes flashed through.

My surroundings became white as far as I could see, even the sky above me and I was no longer tied to a chair, instead laying on the ground. Relief flooded through me. I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. I rolled over and pushed myself to my feet, looking around me for any structures or objects. 

I jumped and turned when I heard a noise behind me only to see a man standing right behind me. He was taller than me by at least a foot. The top of my head only just reached his shoulder. He had pulled back blonde hair, and his cold blue eyes narrowed on me only made me even more afraid.

I started to run and had only begun to move to take my first step when closed the space between us and grabbed my arm. He threw me to the ground and pinned me there. Funnily, the impact didn’t hurt. I struggled as much as I could, but he didn’t move an inch. The blonde man placed his hand the top of my head and around us images started moving. They flashed and split, breaking up. I wasn't controlling them, but some seemed familiar, but I didn’t recognize them. I tried to make them stop but I had no control. They had no similarity except that they were convoluted, sound was broken up, vision split with white spots in random places, glitching and corrupted like computer data after a virus had swept through and destroyed everything it could but there were fragments remaining. An image would glitch and fail only to have another one immediately called up. People, places, explosions, animals, a field, a classroom, a blue sky, a man’s face, they were all random.

I had to get away from the blond man to make it stop. If I stopped the man, the images would stop. I couldn't, though. I was pinned to the ground and was going nowhere. I had to make it stop. I had to.

"Get out," I whimpered, "get out."

He wouldn't move and every time I spoke, he glared and tightened his grip painfully, a knee driving into the center of my back. Images flashed by even faster, broken sounds of speech. I begged and pleaded for him to stop, tears running from my eyes.

Before I knew it I was crying, "Get out!" over and over trying in vain to free myself until everything went black.

 

* * *

**  
**

 

 

I woke up again. I immediately wanted to go back to sleep, to pretend that this was all a bad dream.

This time I wasn't blindfolded. I was in another white room, lying on a cot of some kind, rather like a futon, and my left arm was bound in a sling. The room I was in looked like a padded cell. The walls were blinding white while the floor was a black and white checkboard pattern. There was a door but it had no handle. A camera in the corner watched the entire room and a speaker rested next to the camera.

My head pounded with the worst headache in my life; someone was sitting up there with a hammer just pounding away and to top it all off my stomach was sloshing around. My stomach flipped and I spotted a trashcan by the door and immediately lurched in its direction. Not two seconds later I was vomiting into it over and over. I almost didn't make it in time. After puking my guts out completely until I was vomiting a rancid yellow-green fluid and then dry heaving I collapsed on the tile floor.

Several minutes later I shifted and realized that along with everything else that was injured, my rubs were bruised if not broken. Wherever I was, I was fucked.

The door opened and slammed into my shoulder.

I let out a moan in pain. I hurt all over and now my shoulder was added to it. The cold floor was actually kind of comfortable. Soothing, really. Like an icepack. I was already cold, but it helped with the pain.

Some guy stepped through the gap, jamming the door even farther into my shoulder in the process. I groaned again.

He started saying something when he stepped in. I got a good look at his shoes. Some big open toed boots, like a pair of combat boots fucked a pair of sandals and this was the result. He could have used a pedicure, too with those nasty toenails. He picked me up with his huge hands. I didn't offer much resistance as he draped one of my arms over his shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged me out of the room. The hallway he took me through had several turns and staircases. I didn't try to remember any of them.

God, I could have used some painkillers right then.

Eventually we came into a large room with a beautiful picture window that wrapped around an entire side of it and had a huge wooden desk with a middle-aged man sitting behind it. While not old, his face was lined and had the beginnings of sunspots on his tanned face.

The guy set me down in a chair in front of the desk. I looked up at his face for the first time and was greeted with a blank looking cat mask made of porcelain painted with a few utilitarian red lines and a smile that creeped the hell out of me. If I hadn't already been in pain, exhausted beyond belief and mind so tired that I could barely think, I would have been very weirded out and having an Alice in Wonderland moment.

Hell, I was having an Alice in Wonderland moment even though I wasn't one hundred percent sure who Alice was.

The door to the office opened again and a tall blond-haired man wearing a pig mask that smiled just as creepily as the cat masked man entered. This one was wearing proper combat boots, not that hideous sandal monstrosity the other had on.

 _Pumba_ , my mind supplied. I'm not sure where from.

Something about him was familiar but I couldn't quite place just what it was. He walked in and exchanged a few words with the man behind the desk before standing stiffly in front of me with his arms crossed for a moment, considering me before he moved.

His hands and fingers moved, weaving with each other and forming strange signs and for a moment I was confused. Then, he put his hand on my forehead. Not a second later an energy spike split my head and I wanted to vomit again. Sounds and symbols flashed and I found that I was recognizing them, associating them with different things. How, I don't know. I groaned, holding my head in my hands, folding my body over.

Finally, the sensations ceased and I sat up in my seat and tried to blink away the black spots that were appearing all over my vision.

The man at the desk in front of me said something, I didn't understand exactly what. He repeated his words and I lifted my head.

"For the last time, I  _don't understand you!_ " I whispered vehemently. I felt on the verge of tears from the pure frustration and helplessness.  I looked up at him with a tired look and he steadily returned my gaze. I looked away quickly, he practically exuded power and authority. I didn't want to get crushed. I felt like a bug waiting to be squished in his presence. I flinched and ducked my head when the pig masked man put his hand on my shoulder, a chill running down my back.

A rustle of papers caught my attention and a sheaf of papers was pushed in front of me. The writing was all groupings of graceful symbols but somehow, they made sense, like they almost shifted into words that made sense in my mind but stayed the same on the paper.  _The Village Hidden in the Leaves_ , it was in my head, but on the paper said  _Leaves-Hidden of Village_. There were more words than that but I didn't read further. I just stared at those three symbols.

I guess my reaction meant something because the two men started talking above my head.

I brushed a finger over the symbols lightly, as if they would crumble away any moment. There was so much that I didn't understand. How I got here, who I was, where I was from, why I was being hurt.

I blinked back moisture from my eyes and looked down at my lap again. I had never wanted to cry more in my life, but I felt that it would be ill-received by these men. I held back the tears. Barely.

The two men talked in rapid words that flew completely over my head. I was done trying to understand what in the world was going on. They spoke for several minutes though by the tone of it the unmasked man was giving all the orders. I offered no resistance when the pig masked man tugged on my arm not in the sling in an obvious command to come with him and did my best to limp out of the office. Almost all the way out of the office the pig masked man, tired of my slow progress, muttered something and slung my good arm over his shoulder. I hissed in pain when his shoulder made hard contact with my bruised (broken?) ribs. Once out of the office I was unceremoniously dumped into a chair in a waiting area. Immediately the blond man walked away and back into the office we had just come from.

The waiting room was a tasteful cream color, a desk at one end by the door where an attractive black-haired woman sat filing and sorting papers. Several chairs sat along the wall and there was a small low table with chairs around it off to the side. Besides the black-haired woman and I, the room was empty and except for the rustle of papers coming from the receptionist's desk there was no sound. I don't know how long I was sitting there but my vision was getting hazy after a while of sitting there.

Just as I was about to fall asleep the door to the office opened and the blond man walked out. From somewhere, I didn't catch where, the cat-masked guy who escorted me from my cell to here appeared. The two men faced each other but they didn't say anything, communicating non-verball. After a moment, the blond man left and the cat masked guy come over to where I was seated and indicated for me to get up. Once I had pulled myself into a standing position he slung my arm over his shoulder and I winced at the pain again. He helped/dragged me back to my cell.

 

* * *

**  
**

 

 

Calming chakra. That's what the medics who inspected the girl said.

Could be a bloodline. Could be something else. The ANBU on duty reported that even standing outside the girls cell while she was unconscious made them relax a bit, although while she was under interrogation or duress the effect was not present.

Hawk had observed the girl for the last few days since the ANBU guards had realized the calming effect they were experiencing was from their newest 'guest'. So far, she seemed..

Inconsequential.

Her appearance was explained only by a badly botched summoning seal created by a Hidden Stone chūnin team. The intruders were quickly located a few hours after a chakra spike caused by the activation of the seal announced her presence. They Hidden Stone team was currently being tended to by Yamanaka Inotashi and his young apprentice, one of the Morino clan.

Honestly, the girl had caused quite the stir with the Linguistics division of the Cultural Liaison department when it was discovered that she didn't speak Fire Dialect. In fact, the Linguistics experts were divided between whether or not the girl was speaking a language from a country from far to the East across the ocean or if she was speaking a dead language. A smaller faction within ANBU believed that she spoke gibberish, plain and simple.

It had taken one of the Yamanaka interrogators several hours rooting around in her head to gain a basic grasp of the language that she spoke and to determine that there was hardly a single stable memory that could be accessed before metaphorically tossing the interrogator out.

The girl had retrograde amnesia caused by trauma which made it near-impossible to get any information.

Amnesia caused by repression, a Yamanaka interrogator had informed him, could be blasted through by the interrogators' mind techniques and read like an open book, but it had the annoying side effect of ripping apart other parts of a prisoner's mind. Amnesia caused by trauma, however, made memories completely unstable because the cells in which the memories were stored were injured or in the process of being repaired. It explained a lot about why it was so easy to get access to memories in the heads of captured enemy shinobi. It was one of the reasons many enemy shinobi would commit suicide rather than be dragged back to Hidden Leaves during wartime.

A mind technique used by the Yamanaka would hopefully give the girl knowledge of how to speak Fire Dialect, but the technique was still in the experimental stages and mind techniques were tricky at best. It could grant the girl the ability to speak Fire Dialect, it could give her a working knowledge of writing, it could theoretically mess up the language part of her brain, or it could do nothing. Time would tell but the couple of times that she had interacted with her guards since being taken to the Hokage's office she hadn't made any indication that she understood what was being said to her.

They would have to wait and see if the language barrier had been breached by the Yamanaka technique before they could question her further.

At any rate, the girl would have to prove herself useful in some regard—civil or military—or she would likely be executed if proven to be a threat of any kind. The Hidden Leaf Village couldn't afford to take in anyone and everyone who showed up at its gates. The war was just finished and there was rebuilding to be done.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3: It's Natural to be Afraid

**Chapter 3:**

**_Stable Song_ **

* * *

_Ring like silver, ring like gold. Ring out those ghosts on the Ohio. Ring like clear day wedding bells. Were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell…we'll never tell…_

* * *

"Calming chakra, you say."

"Yes, ma'am."

"How did the medics describe this phenomenon?"

"Extremely smooth flowing chakra, ma'am. Similar to water, in their words, flowing smooth enough that it would emit a very calming effect that acts in a soothing manner, not unlike that of nature chakra or even the effect that a fetus feels from the chakra of its mother while in the womb. According to the medics the two are similar." The ANBU agent trailed off as if he did not really understand the explanation that was given to him. While unusual chakra natures cropped up from time to time no one really knew what _caused_ the deviation from the norm except for those who studied chakra extensively, and many times even those experts did not have all the answers or could not answer in a way that anyone else could understand what they were talking about.

The woman leaned back in her chair and glanced out of the corner of her eyes at her fellow councilors. Their faces were all heavily lined from years of stress with the exception of Koharu who had aged as gracefully as a kunoichi of her prowess could. To a civilian, the age of forty-one was not considered old, or aged. To an active shinobi, living to their mid-thirties was a huge accomplishment, forties was rare. Most of those who lived that long rarely saw active duty, something that could not be said for Koharu.

Utatane Koharu knew that she was the most compassionate one of the three council members gathered, and the one most likely to seek what other options they could besides execution. Her teammate, Mitokado Homura would be the one to weigh the potential assets and liabilities of the situation before making a decision one way or the other, he balanced out Koharu's passionate tendencies with his even temper and calculating nature; even in their youth he had been the one that was never ruffled no matter the situation. Shimura Danzo, on the other hand, would be the one to lean toward eliminating a potential threat as soon as it was found. Danzo never was one for letting a situation play out and see what would happen, preferring to strike from the shadows before something could turn into a threat. Though it had saved them before, this hasty thinking had cost them allies and assets over the years despite how well-intentioned or well-structured his plans were.

Though Danzo was not on Koharu and Homura's official team which included the current Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, they had all made up an extremely well-balanced team that could overcome most anything that was thrown at them; each balancing the other out. Which was another reason the three of them made up the Hokage's Council, they all thought about problems in different ways and because they had known one another for years they could be frank with each other without fear of offending. Danzo would always urge the Hokage to war, while Koharu would demand action of some kind, and Homura would always analyze the situation before giving his advice, and the Hokage would always look for the decision that would be the most beneficial in the long term for the Hidden Leaf. Between the four of them they had prevented the next Great Shinobi War many times over. A village's leader needed a support system that could take some of the weight of responsibility off of him otherwise he would drown under minutia that came with the paperwork combined with the tough decisions.

Contrary to popular belief, the three did not sit up in the Hokage tower thinking up all the ways they could advise the Hokage to be more aggressive toward the Hidden Leaf's enemies. Much of their time was wrapped up dealing in the politics so that the Hokage could be free to make the decisions that he had to and gathering intelligence. Though their bodies weren't as young as they used to be their minds were as sharp as ever. They knew the repercussions of any actions that might be taken and acted accordingly.

No, despite what the younger generation wanted to believe, the three of them were a product of the times in which they had grown up and lived—breathtaking violence and years upon years of bloody war—and were appropriately paranoid about the world and their enemies. You could be damned sure that every other hidden village had councilors just like them advising their respective Kage. The current Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, was an idealist at heart and had adjusted to the long years of peace that had separated the First Great War from the Second better than his teammates had.

Oh, how Koharu longed for the days when she could _move_ as only a kunoichi could and was still in her prime. Though dangers of those days were more numerous than the present she and her teammates did not have to rely on others to do what needed to be done.

While they were prepared to sacrifice for the village, they were also reluctant to let a possible asset out of their grasp. After several weeks of observation by ANBU, the calming effect exuded by the civilian woman who had been dubbed Yamada Hanako by her guards was found to create a relaxed feeling in those around the woman. The effect was described to be similar to the feeling of home and warmth, comfort, even. After a few hours of discussion with the current ANBU captain assigned to Torture and Interrogation the trio had come up with the idea of keeping the woman somewhere, whether with the hospital (unlikely according to Koharu, she'd only be in the way), near the ANBU barracks (unlikely according to the ANBU captain because of the constant distractions she would pose), or kept hidden within the ANBU headquarters in order to utilize this calming effect. ANBU operatives were wound up tight by the stress of their missions, and it was imperative to their health—mental and physical—that they be allowed to de-compress in some way. Some took up hobbies, some gambled, others lost themselves in drink.

After a while the idea was proposed by Homura to allow citizenship to the woman and have her housed somewhere within the shinobi districts and assign ANBU agents that were beginning to be affected by the more demanding missions to guard her. Officially, the woman would have ANBU guarding her so that they could keep an eye on here and watch for either suspicious behavior or any effect besides her unusual chakra nature. Unofficially the woman would be a tool to help with the mental health of ANBU agents and help give them a place besides ANBU headquarters that they could relax.

The masked captain brought up the possibility of agents seeking out the woman's company even when not assigned to guard duty and suggested that it might be prudent to make the safe-house a larger location than a simple-person apartment. To everyone's surprise, maybe even Danzo's himself, Danzo declared that if they were going to create a safe atmosphere so that their more paranoid agents could relax and not end up snapping from constant stress, then why forbid agents not on missions from seeking that out if they felt that they needed that calming presence? Besides, he added, it was possible that the woman's chakra nature would be passed on to any children that she would have, so it would make sense to encourage her to willingly establish herself within the village. And if, however it might or might not happen, that the father any potential children were a shinobi, then the child would be an asset either by joining the shinobi forces or by providing the same effect as the mother.

Koharu was surprised by Danzo's thinking; he rarely thought that far ahead on matters such as this. Maybe the birth of his first grandchild was causing him to consider more the future generations of the village than the current dilemmas it faced in day-to-day matters. Though the thought that a child would be a result of what they were going to do was a darker one, it was prudent and realistic to plan for it. Koharu knew exactly how higher level shinobi coped with stress. Although at least Danzo hadn't suggested a breeder route. Some villages contained departments that dealt with the—cultivation of bloodlines. Such a thought disgusted Koharu and left her with a dirty feeling. She would avoid that for the Hidden Leaf at all costs. Some things weren't worth the methods they took to get there, even for shinobi.

Then again, Danzo could be up to something. The members of the council and Hokage were in a constant struggle against one another; after all these years of knowing one another it was difficult for them to one-up each other and they would usually take the opportunity to rub anything in their peers' faces. They did the same thing when they were Genin, Chuunin, and Jounin, but their machinations didn't have as far-reaching effects as they did now.

God, Koharu missed the old days.

The days when she did not have to virtually sentence a woman to having a child because that was the only avenue she had to making sure another soul was not executed by the Hidden Leaf. The war had already taken enough to satisfy any blood-lust she might have held. Her village might have the reputation of being the 'good guy' of the shinobi world but that reputation was a façade every village tried to maintain that hid the things they did that left a sour taste in Koharu's mouth.

No matter.

After all these years that taste was all Koharu knew.

* * *

Things are weird now. Ever since I went into the office with the old man and the pig-masked man—Pumba— I could understand things. For whatever reason, I can now understand writing. Well, sorta. The symbols I'm reading— _kanji_ , the bird-masked guy called them when he pointed to the words on the page—make sense. It's not like they rearrange themselves and turn into English on the page, but I can understand them. Like in the way one reads another language they're fluent in and understands what the words mean. I can't understand a word of what these guys are still saying. And the symbols themselves, well they're not a phonetical system.

I communicate with the guards, because that's what they really are to me, by writing back and forth. It's very strange and disorienting for me to think of what I want to say in English and then just knowing what shapes and lines to create to describe what I want to say in another freaking language. When I try to go through the process slowly in my mind, much like a musician practicing a single measure rather than an entire phrase, I get a slight headache. I still have that original piece of paper with me—the one that says 'Leaves Hidden of Village'. Or rather, after I mentally decipher it and try to think of it in a working way, 'Village Hidden in the Leaves.'

They gave me a small leather-bound journal. Just as "screw you" to them, I've been writing solely in English, rather than their language. A few things are coming back to me. I can remember why I want to call that guy Pumba, it has to do with a story about lions and a monarchy. There's a meerkat and a warthog involved, the warthog's name is Pumba. Pig equals Pumba. Other than that, I've just been writing down what's going on, writing down what's happened to me over the past few days. Also, I'm about seventy-five percent sure these guys are speaking Japanese, from what I can remember. Random snippets are coming back to me now: my name's Elizabeth, I prefer Elle, I was in college... No, I graduated. I was working before I got here—wherever here is—and I was pretty into working out. I remember that I was a business major, worked in accounting, but not much else. My family was large, but I can't remember if the blurry faces are siblings or cousins. Just small details, but the details that make, well, me.

Oh, the bird guy is back. I really need to decide on a name for him. Bird Guy is so—impersonal.

* * *

The ANBU operative watched Yamada Hanako finish writing out a sentence before she snapped her journal shut in a popping sound and set it and her pencil down beside her. She wrote using solely romanji characters, he had noticed. The strange alphabet was used so rarely he knew only what one or two of the characters meant. Hirigana and katakana were used for sounding out unknown characters, not that script.

She tucked a few strands of strawberry blonde hair behind an ear and peered up at him with grey-blue eyes. Rather lucky, he thought, that her right arm was uninjured. She wouldn't have been able to communicate with them via paper if it had been. She didn't look as bad now as she had those first few weeks after her interrogation. Most of her injuries were healed or still healing. The T&I department wasn't exactly known for its gentle bedside manner. Knowing that she couldn't understand him, he beckoned with his hand for her to get up and follow him. She looked a little annoyed at the gesture, but followed along.

Hanako said something in her own language as they left the room, but Sparrow ignored it and started the walk up to the outbound processing office.

Once they reached the processing office, Sparrow gave Hanako the packet of papers that detailed where she would be going, the details and terms of her release, and the terms of her continued residence in the village. She immediately started going through and devouring the details within with a ferocity that Sparrow could understand. As far as he and his fellow ANBU operatives knew, she had been plucked from whatever realm she came from by a botched summoning seal and dumped somewhere hostile where she didn't know the language and didn't understand anything that was going on around her. What was truly remarkable was how well adjusted she was about the whole situation. On the surface at least. On the inside, she was probably a few steps from a breakdown. Still, for a civilian, she was doing rather well.

Ever since the Yamanaka had performed their experimental justu on her, things were better, but that didn't solve the spoken language barrier. The girl had been reading through all the books they had given her concerning the Hidden Leaf and the culture of Fire Country and its immediate surrounding areas. Really the books were introductory texts for academy students, but they served their purpose just as well here.

After ensuring that the papers were read through and signed, a copy was given to Hanako, and then she was free to go. Well, metaphorically speaking.

Sparrow adopting a henge in a puff of smoke that startled Hanako, and he took on the appearance of a brown haired man of medium build in his late twenties.

'This is the appearance I will take on when escorting you in public places,' Sparrow wrote on a notepad that Hanako carried with her. 'I will now escort you to your new home.'

She read it and nodded, with a quick "Hai," one of the only words she knew so far.

The elevator ride out of the T&I department was a little tense. Sparrow could tell that Hanako was still quite uncomfortable with her new watcher. The tenseness in her shoulders, though she kept her back straight and shoulders squared, belied her underlying anxiousness. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Sparrow exited first and Hanako followed. The main lobby of building in which T&I maintained its 'public' face was mostly black and sleek looking, with lots of smooth stone surfaces. It wasn't a hospitable looking place, more like the lobby of a law firm or some similar place. Shinobi periodically flit in and out in streaks of motion that to a civilian would look like they were appearing and disappearing. Hanako stopped at the sight and didn't look like she wanted to go forward until Sparrow gently touched her shoulder. She flinched away at the movement, but the action snapped her back into reality, and she followed.

The Village Hidden in the Leaves was split into several distinct districts. The central district contained the epicenter of trade and was mostly markets, businesses, and restaurants. Very few people lived in the central district, those who did were mostly shop-owners who lived above their businesses. The districts directly surrounding the epicenter were more residential, and mostly segregated between civilian and shinobi, although the two intermixed in few areas. Beyond that, the outermost districts of Hidden Leaves were inhabited by clans and those rich enough to own estates of various sizes. Most of those estates, however, were passed down from the descendants of the founding of Hidden Leaves and were bound to various shinobi bloodlines. It was rare for those properties to ever change hands, and if they did, it was either a subject of great scandal, or misfortune.

Outside, Hanako looked around her with great interest. The sun had was still rising, but the early morning marketplaces were beginning. Housewives haggled for fresh produce while keeping an eye on errant children, and vendors not yet set up were standing up their booths. The air was fresh, crisp, and clean. Apparently industrialization hadn't made as much of a mark here as it had in most places in the world. The air was free of the pollutants that Hanako was so familiar with, and it only served to drive home the point that she was somewhere she didn't belong.

The streets changed as they walked. Markets and shops gave way to apartment buildings which then gave way to houses, which gave way to apartment buildings again, and then houses once more. Their destination was close edge of the line that divided the clan holdings from one of the shinobi districts, which was quite far from the village center. Sparrow led Hanako down a few small roads that branched away from the main one they had been taking. At the end of a row of houses, they reached their target: A rather unassuming house, small, painted cream with red shutters and a red door. Small flower beds were out front between the few feet of space that divided the house from the street, but they looked as if they'd been neglected for some time. Flowers grew, but a tangled mess of grass and weeds was starting to encroach.

Sparrow climbed up the five short steps and the added height only made him tower above Hanako, accentuating her slight build. He pulled a key from a pocket and unlocked the door. He gave the key to Hanako, with a gruff " _Kore o toru._ "

Hanako didn't have any pockets to put it in, but she took the key all the same. The ANBU opened the door to the house and gestured for her to go in. Inside, it was lightly furnished. Two small couches and a coffee table were placed in the living room, and a table that sat four along with chairs was in the dining area part of it. The kitchen was at least good sized, and was separated from the living-dining area by a bar. To the right of the dining area were two doors, one which led to a bathroom and the other a bedroom. Beyond the dining area was a short hallway which contained a master bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. Both bedrooms had sliding doors that led to a back porch which ran the length of the house and faced a backyard. Hanako actually couldn't tell where exactly the back yard ended, as there was no barrier to define it. There was a ledge, however, which dropped down to reveal a river which flew from West to East. Both directions, she could see various bridges, all quite high. Hanako decided that during rain it must swell quite a bit for as tall as the banks were built.

Once back inside, Hanako began to more closely inspect the house. There were a few small cracks here and there in the walls, more a sign of age than disrepair. It didn't look like the place had been inhabited in a while. There was a layer of dust on everything, and the kitchen, while furnished with a few basic dishes and utensils, contained no food and the all the appliances were unplugged. Another door in the kitchen that Hanako had assumed was a pantry was actually a utility room which had a stacked washer and dryer, the pantry she had been looking for, and a side door leading to the outside.

The blonde started creating mental lists. Some shopping would definitely be in order: cleaning supplies, food, linens, dishes, and not least, some more clothes. The ones that she was currently wearing were given to her by the Intelligence division and were very plain, and made to fit someone slightly larger than her. Plain black pants that tightened and stopped at calf level, a loose black long sleeve shirt, and navy sandals. She looked quite unassuming and easily passed over. Hanako preferred something more—well, her own. But, she had a budget to stick to, and would have to prioritize things accordingly.

Lost in thought, Sparrow observed silently. The young woman had walked through the house, checking the cabinets and closets, taking inventory of her new home. The place was actually larger than what she would have gotten otherwise, the second bedroom was meant for whomever was currently guarding her. The house had been built right after the First Shinobi World War when many shinobi were starting to settle down after the long periods of fighting. As such, the place actually held a few tricks such as security seals that when keyed to a shinobi would alert them of trespassers onto the property. The last resident had been a war veteran who had died years before and had no heirs, so the property passed on to the village. The house had periodically been used as a safe house since, but not often enough to actually turn the water and electricity on very often.

Now, the village had a different use for it. Sparrow was well aware that his superiors thought that he was wound too tight. It didn't concern him too much though. Who wouldn't be, after the kind of missions he had been running for the past year and a half? Sparrow actually didn't think it was too bad of an idea, assigning the agents who had been running stressful missions for too long to simple guard duty like this. Safe in the village, in close proximity to some of the larger clans that ran security of their own, and assigned a low level target like Yamada Hanako who had no strategic value of note besides the effect her chakra had on those who spent an extended amount of time with her. If this were a mission assigned by the General Shinobi Corps it would most likely be taken by a fresh genin team. As it stood, any operative good enough to be accepted into ANBU would be perceptive enough to see the assignment for what it was: mandated R&R for the sake of their mental health.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Notes from Shivaliszt (the author, that's me!)  
> If anyone here is into geopolitics, you will know that the world is nasty. Like, a super fucked up, nasty, horrible place. Just think of the Middle East, for example: Five global powers are sticking their hands in there, stirring things around. Even if you are one of the people who wants the US to pull out of there, if the US does pull out, there will be repercussions out of that decision that may make the place worse or better than it is now. Decisions that seem on their face to be good from one side, may end up in the deaths of more people. Conversely, staying in may lead to the same thing. When you have that many players vying against one another, things get dirty fast. For the majority of us to stay safe, there are people in dark rooms who have to make terrible, fucked up decisions so that we can stay in our picture-perfect world. I don't support a lot of those decisions, but I also recognize that I probably would never want to know what all evil things have been done so that I can have the life I do today. Danzo, Homura, and Koharu are just some of the people in those dark rooms who have to make these decisions. I hope that those decisions weigh as heavily on them as they should. I have the personal opinion that ROOT was probably founded to do the things that Konoha couldn't do overtly, and, besides the brainwashing, probably wouldn't be as traitor-y as they were made out to be in the manga.  
> Hanako’s Situation: I also want to be very clear: If Hanako didn’t emit calming chakra, she would have been executed back in Chapter 2. As it is, she doesn’t have very many rights, similar to Naruto himself. She’s classified as a Village Asset just like a Jinchuriki and several others of similar significance are. ANBU controls her entire life even if she doesn’t realize it, and any freedoms she has are because they have been generously allowed, not because she really has them. She’s essentially a prisoner in Konoha and if she ever tries to rock the boat, she’ll find out just how true that is. Nobody from Konoha is going to have any sympathy for her either, because they know she’s lucky to be alive and should be thanking the village just for letting her live.  
> Another deviation from the standard SI/OC and ‘person finds themselves in the Naruto universe’ stories; Hanako has no clue what Naruto is. She’s never read the manga, never watched the anime. I’ve based her character off an amalgamation of people I know, and maybe one or two of them are into anime. In fact, I’d say that she’s never watched a single anime before. She’s as much of a movie and literature buff as the average person. So, how would an average person handle being dropped in that world? How would Bridgette in HR or Karen in Accounting do if you plucked her out of her office job and said, ‘find your own way back. Good luck, fucker’? Hanako keeps to herself right now and keeps her head down because she’s pretty depressed. If you’ve ever lived in another country that few to no people speak your language, you’d know that it’s extremely easy to become a homebody and depressed even if you normally aren’t because it’s so fucking hard to get around easily and communicate with people. That’s where Hanako is. She wouldn’t normally be so quiet and introverted, but it’s what would realistically happen to someone in this situation.  
> The Language: For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to say that the language of Fire Country is Japanese. It isn’t, but since the manga is written in Japanese, there are so many words that won’t really have an English translation (honorifics, words like ninja, shinobi, kunoichi, etc.). For words that do have a direct English translation, with the exception of some jutsu names, I’ll just make it a direct translation instead of sprinkling a whole ton of Japanese words in here that I don’t actually know. I’m not a huge fan of that trend of ‘show off how many random Japanese words you know.’ Now, we wouldn’t expect all the surrounding countries to speak the same language. We won’t pretend that they all speak Japanese across the Elemental Countries. I’ll refer to the language of Fire Country as Blaze Dialect (If someone has a better name for it, I’m open to suggestions), and I’ll name the other country’s dialects similarly (Storm Dialect for Lightning Country, Gale Dialect for Wind Country, etc.).


	4. Chapter 4: Remember Me as a Time of Day

**Chapter 4:**

**_Remember Me as a Time of Day_ **

* * *

_Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again._

* * *

I’ve now been here for 3 months now, I believe. _Sparrow_ , has left and been replaced by _Bull_. _Sparrow_ only ever showed me that fake face—a _henge_ , they called it— and was quite distant. I’ve seen what can only be described as magic, but it seems commonplace here. At least it is with my guards. They appear and disappear too fast for me to follow, create fake faces and appearances at a whim, walk on walls, and move so silently I almost can’t even tell they’re there. I’m not even sure that I’m in the same world anymore. I’ve seen a few maps of this country and the surrounding countries, but it doesn’t match anywhere I’ve ever seen in geography. I wonder if I’m in a coma sometimes, and if my family is waiting for me to wake up. That actually is the most likely explanation of everything; that I’m dreaming all of this and every face I’ve seen is just a passerby I’ve seen during my life. I think there was a study that proved that… or theorized that… I don’t remember which. No one is familiar, nothing is similar to home. I’ve lost—everything. My home, my family, language, culture, fuck—even my memories!

I don’t know anything here. I’m halfway proficient at using chopsticks, but these guys don’t even have forks, for crying out loud! Meals are super fun. I do my best to resist stabbing my food with chopsticks every time vegetables flop over them back onto my plate. Not just the food, but the honorifics system is difficult for me. I’m not sure what to call anyone, so I just tack a “-san” onto everyone’s name. I think that’s polite enough. No one has taken offense, as best I can tell.

I like _Bull_ better than _Sparrow_. _Sparrow_ never interacted with me, he was always just a silent presence that was just there, masked and silent. _Bull_ took his mask off the for the first time a few days ago. At least I think he did. With as easy it is for these guys to create an illusion I can’t really be sure. I can’t really be sure of anything I see, come to think of it, if they can do even that.

Anyways, _Bull_ has been helping me with language though. He’ll point to objects and name them, and then have me repeat it, or write down a phrase, have me read it, and then say it out loud. Sometimes when they call me Hanako I’m tempted to correct them and say “My name is Elle,” but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference. This language doesn’t have an ‘L’ sound in the first place, so it’s not even like they’d get it right.

The house that I live in is now stocked. I was given a bit of start-up money and made sure to stretch it as far as I could. Even so, I had to find a job quick if I was going to be able to eat. Right now, I’m running the payroll for a business. It’s a bit boring, just matching what names go with what rates and factoring in commissions, and taking out whatever taxes, and diverting investment funds. but it’s something. The old man I’m doing it for seems to like it since it takes quite a bit of time out of his week. Periodically, he’ll leave me a note stating that he wants to move funds from one fund to another; real estate to exchange rates, for example. Even so, it’s not too time-consuming for me, so I still have a lot of free time. I should honestly think about expanding it and seeing if other businesses would be interested in it, but common sense tells me that I should probably look into the tax laws and such here first. If they even exist.

So. Free time. I have a lot of it right now. Besides reading books and trying to learn to speak Fire Dialect, I usually go try and work out. I managed to find a rudimentary gym that’s actually a half-empty warehouse. But it has the basics. Weightlifting is universal, it appears. Not too many people use it though, I’ve only seen other people there once or twice, and they’re almost always non-shinobi but the few shinobi I did see there were absolute _beasts_. I’m just trying to get back in shape like I was before I came here. I know I’ll never match these guys, and they know it too, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look good.

I know I don’t really have a chance, and it isn’t very realistic, but the stronger I am, physically, the better chance I stand of protecting myself. An ex of mine taught me a little bit of kickboxing, and how to throw a punch, but I’m not about to delude myself. It makes me feel better. More secure, more… I don’t know, like I at least stand a chance.

I still have nightmares. A lot. I don’t sleep through the night very often, and I’m usually up at the crack of dawn since I can’t sleep anyways. They’re always the same though, faceless snarling monsters slashing at me, chasing me down hallways until I come to a large white room that’s filled with broken images and pictures and shards of glass everywhere. And then faces come at me. People that I think I should know but I can’t be sure reflected through the glass, distorted and fractured. They cry, asking me why I’m not coming back, why I’m being so selfish, how could I leave and do this to them… Sometimes the dreams change and turn into other kinds of nightmares, but that’s the most common one. I still flinch if someone reaches for me, too. I can’t help it, it’s just a reflex from my first weeks here. From that dark room. I still also don’t trust the motivations of everyone around me. I do my best to pretend like I do, but I just can’t bring myself to truly _trust_ anyone.

Maybe it’ll change? I don’t know. I feel so lost with nothing to latch on to, and I refuse to latch on to my ‘guards’ when I know I can’t trust them fully. I know what Stockholm Syndrome is.

* * *

Hanako finished an entry in her journal and closed it. She was trying to periodically make entries to sort out what was going on, put it on paper so that she could look at it more objectively. It had been working rather well for her to cope with everything that had happened. It was better than moping around, that was for sure. This was practically torture for her, not being able to communicate well with those around her.

She ran her fingers through her hair and untangled a few knots absentmindedly. She was done with Mr. Eiji’s payrolls for the week already, had already visited the tiny gym for the day, and cleaned. Hanako was getting tired of all the reading she was doing and wanted a bit of a break. Bull sat on one of the couches reading a book. The man certainly fit his moniker. Hanako was a short person in the first place, but he dwarfed her by a foot at least. Even spread across the couch, the man’s muscles practically bulged from his arms and chest creating a very broad silhouette. He had to be at least 250 lbs.

The blonde sighed. Bull didn’t acknowledge except for turning the next page.

“What is it?” He asked at last.

“ _I’m bored,_ ” she replied.

“Fire Dialect,” Bull reminded her without looking up.

There was a slight pause as Hanako arranged the words in her mind. “Bored, I am” she haltingly said.

A brow furrowed. “I am bored,” Bull corrected.

Hanako threw her hands up in the air. “ _Whatever!_ ” and got up from the dining table. She exited into the backyard via her bedroom to find something to do.

A few overgrown rosebushes climbing trellises on the side of the house needed pruning so she started on that. Spring was well on its way, and it wouldn’t be long before they started budding flowers. Hanako would rather they be trimmed beforehand, that way she needn’t worry about having to trim branches with blooms already on them. The blonde set to work, carefully avoiding the thorns as she went. Bull had silently followed and was now ambling out onto the porch where he could keep an eye on her.

“ _Do you have to follow me everywhere?_ ” She asked in an irritated tone when she finally noticed the bulky shinobi. Bull didn’t answer, of course. The man only spoke when he felt like it. Usually to correct her grammar.

After a while of working, Hanako eventually started humming to herself. Periodically words to songs would slip out, softly sung as she tended the plants. Her voice was better suited to an alto range, Bull decided when the blonde hit a couple of high notes. While not quite comparable to a cat’s yowling, they were slightly off pitch. But the low notes were alright.

The day was a rather fine one. The coming summer would be plagued by the humidity that made Fire Country so infamous amongst foreigners, but the Springs were quite wonderful. Deceptive, however, when compared with what was to come. Because much of the civilian population of Hidden Leaves was tied to its economy, consisting of merchants and the like, it was not unusual for the portion of the population that could either afford it or had reason to for business to relocate to the capital where the winds blowing off the ocean helped to cool them down, rather than allowing it to stagnate in its humidity.

Hanako enjoyed the healthy smell of the soil. It reminded her of what would take root and grow, becoming beautiful flowers that would display their splendor to those patient enough to tend them. Gardening gave her peace, even when she got blisters on her hands from pulling weeds. Gloves. Gloves would help with that.

After several hours of tending, she pulled herself into a standing position to observe her work. When Hanako had first taken up residence in the old house, the front flower beds had some semblance of care about them, but the back gardens looked abandoned. Overgrown and strangled by weeds, roses, lavender, salvia, and other plants Hanako didn’t know the names of had begun to grow wild. From the variety planted, Hanako assumed that someone who had liked having a good smell had lived there previously, but she couldn’t tell how long it had been since they had abandoned the small house. In addition to spending much of her time cleaning out the old house and working to get the musty smell of neglect out, Hanako had spent many hours in the garden where she didn’t feel the cloying presence of her ever-present guards as much. Where they went while she was gardening, she didn’t particularly care to know. They usually disappeared out of her sight when she was outside. Indoors, they were a constant lurking presence. Sometimes she would forget that they were there, they were so quiet, but when she turned around while cooking or looked up from a book they would usually be there, reading a book or looking innocuous. She knew better than that though.

Hanako still couldn’t stand to be touched unexpectedly, or boxed into a corner. Panic would grip her throat and her heart would pound in her ears when she felt closed in. She found that she much preferred open spaces with many escape routes to small rooms with only a single exit. She liked the bedroom she stayed in with its two exits for that reason. She was beginning to prefer the simple garden with its overhanging South-facing porch for that reason as well. It was hard to feel corralled in the open air.

The sun was beginning to hang higher and higher in the air and Hanako found herself escaping the light into the overhang of the porch. Several hooks were inserted into the beams of the roof at the edge which would allow for plants to be hung from them as well as windchimes and any other decorations she might wish. It would only take a few hanging plants with climbing vines, or a well-placed trellis to provide cooling shade for a portion of the porch where Hanako could envision placing a comfortable chair and table for relaxing out-doors. She began mentally planning what she might like to place there and the type of garden furniture.

After a few moments of contemplation and planning, Hanako opened the sliding door and entered her bedroom. She was grateful for the adjoining bathroom as she shed her clothes in the bedroom and entered the bathroom and turned on the water to clean herself off. A little of extra room in her budget gave her the funds to purchase a few plants from one of the local vendors, she thought. And scout for some potential furniture as well.

 

* * *

 

Later in the afternoon, Hanako found herself at a small shop where a middle-aged man tried his best to convince her she should buy a large set of wicker furniture she had been eyeing. She understood a little of what he was saying but was feigning ignorance to most of it, insisting on writing down every counteroffer. Bear was hanging about somewhere, she appreciated that he mostly left her to her own devices when she was out in the city.

Hanako looked longingly at the set that she had been examining as the seller smiled invitingly at her. He said something about “look at the...” and “…good price”, but she still shook her head in a firm ‘no’. The price he had written was well above what she could afford. Pointing to two smaller wicker chairs that would hold comfortable cushions and a small short table, she asked again, “Price?” The seller seemed to be enjoying the exchange and the game of charades the two were forced to engage in, laughing several times good-naturedly when they obviously could not get at what the other was saying.

After some time, the two finally came to an agreement. Still a little more than what Hanako wanted to pay, she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she wouldn’t be able to easily find a better price. It seems that charging foreigners more was a universal trait to businessmen. After a few rounds of writing down payment contracts to be completed within two months, handing over a down-payment, and a delivery address, the seller and Hanako came to an agreement. The furniture would be delivered by the end of the day, the man promised, and then the two bowed to one another. Such a formal culture, Hanako noted to herself. But no matter. She left the shop and began a search for a flower shop.

The streets of Hidden Leaves were always very interesting to her. Roads and streets crisscrossed without much semblance, and it seemed like only those who lived there could easily navigate their way through the maze. The exception being a few major streets which ran broadly to their goals while they also afforded many points where they could be blocked off. Even so, the streets were usually busy. Civilians and shinobi alike walked the roads, shopping, doing business, and carrying on their lives in general. Farmer’s markets tended to be clustered toward the outskirts of the city while established shops were farther inward. Not surprising to Hanako, considering all the twists and turns anyone setting up a temporary stall would have to take to get to a good position in the first place.

Spying a brightly painted sign with decorated with flowers, Hanako made a beeline for an open door. _Yamanaka Herbal Remedies and Horticulture_ was written on the sign in tidy calligraphy.

The shop was slightly musty with dried herbs hanging from hooks and bins containing different assortments of roots, tubers, and bulbs. Small signs indicating what was contained in the bins were written in the same tidy calligraphy that adorned the sign outside.  An old woman with sharp eyes and grey hair pulled primly into a bun secured with hairpins sat at the counter weighing and portioning out herbs. Stacked onto shelves against a far wall of the shop were what looked like jars of powdered, diced, and ground herbs.

Hanako looked around, examining the different bins. Some of the bulbs had green growth coming off of them, but none of them looked like they’d be ready for the summer if she planted them soon. Seeds, she needed either seeds of seedlings.

Looking back at the old woman, who was watching her from the corner of her eye, Hanako pulled a small notebook from her bag and the little nub of a pencil she’d thrown into it earlier.

“Hello, ma’am.” She said before she started writing on the pad.

‘Do you have seedlings of garden herbs available?’ she wrote.

“Good afternoon, Customer-san. Behind the shop in the back garden. You will need to ask my nephew to assist you.” The woman replied. “Hiro-kun! Take this young lady out back to look at the kitchen herbs,” she raised her voice to reach someone in the back.

At this, Hiro, a young blond man of probably 15, poked his head from a back room and waved his hand at Hanako in a gesturing motion.

“Yeah, Auntie, I got it. Come on back,” he called out.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hanako inclined her head to the old woman and followed Hiro to the back.

Once Hanako was out of the room, with surprising speed, the old woman snapped her arm out and a trio of senbon flew at a spot by the door. With a puff of smoke, they hit a block of wood which fell to the floor with a thunk.

“Easy there, Madam Yamanaka. Just on guard duty,” Bull waved his hands at her in an ‘I’m unarmed’ gesture from the middle of the shop. Madam Yamanaka frowned, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t try me, young man. I didn’t live through clan wars and two Hidden Wars for some young upstart to think he can get the drop on me,” she threatened with narrowed eyes. “Your illusion is as shitty as your attitude is arrogant. Now get out of my shop.”

Bull frowned at the ornery old woman. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m going, already,” he said as he shunshined out of the Yamanaka matriarch’s shop. “Mean old bitch,” he muttered as soon as he got out of earshot. Bull observed from a nearby roof as Yamada looked for more plants with the Yamanaka kid. Seriously, there were way too many plants at the house already. Besides working for a few civilians with math and business things, Yamada practically did nothing but garden. The place did smell nice though, he had to concede. Fresh, and with windows always open to the breeze. Finally, the woman found some more of her plants and negotiated inside the shop with Madam Yamanaka for a bit until finally agreeing on a price.

Replacing his illusion – it was perfectly good, notice-me-not illusions work just fine, old bitch – he fell in step about 20 feet behind her. They proceeded this way all of the way back to the Northwest side of Hidden Leaves where the safehouse stood. Predictably, once there Yamada went straight for the back gardens to start planting her new finds. Finding a nice tree branch to relax on, Bull pulled out a booklet on the recent actions of the Mist village to catch up on while he absentmindedly stood guard. Pulsing his chakra out every few minutes to check for intruders, they stayed that way for the next hour or so. Yamada working with her plants and Bull silently keeping watch.


	5. It's All Over but the Crying

#  **Chapter 5:**

#  **_It’s All Over But the Crying_ **

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* * *

####  _Poor little dreams that keep trying to come true._

****

* * *

I got the garden planted and established. Off to one side, I have a nice area of flowers and flowering vines set up on trellises. The center of the garden area has a few rosebushes that are freshly planted, very small ones. And to the right of the garden when you first walk outside I have a nice herb garden going. The smell is so fresh and sweet. I can’t believe how much I missed the smell of basil and thyme, oregano and rosemary. I have a few other herbs growing that I don’t recognize. The oregano was hard to find though. I don’t think it’s a common herb here, but it was inexpensive. I’m thinking of expanding more so that I have a vegetable area, but I’m not sure yet. It’s too late in the year to plant vegetables anyway. I’ve trimmed the trellises on the sides of the house so that the roses that grow on vines there should be doing better. They were very overgrown when I arrived here. Hopefully by the time that it gets cold the roses I’ve newly planted will be well rooted enough that they’ll do well. Now that the god-awful heat of Summer is done and Autumn is underway I need to start getting everything ready to winter. I’ve gathered seed pods from the plants that I could and labeled them carefully in envelopes that I’m storing in my bedroom.

I’m not sure what I’ll do with the front area. I’ve transplanted a few plants from there, but I don’t know what I want to do with it long term. I’m stupid for thinking of planning for the long term here anyways, but gardening helps. Helps me clear my mind and forget about this place, my surroundings, home.

I remember more of home. Most of my memories have come back, but it hasn’t helped at all. I don’t think this is all a coma. The details are there, too precise. Things I’ve never seen before, smells and feelings I’ve never before experienced. Sir Isaac Newton proposed the idea one time that there are multiple universes, Schrodinger proposed that there could be multiple realities all happening at once. Alexander wept when he heard there were multiple universes, because he hadn’t even conquered one. I heard a story once, of a woman who could slip through dimensions at will, who traveled through space and time pursued by a group of people who wanted her for her power. Supposedly in that story, she traveled to my own world, to the future, and to other worlds. She was called something like the Old Blood, or the Eldest Blood, or something like that. Ciri, they called her. All universes overlap, like radios tuned to different frequencies, different stations broadcasting their own versions of reality. The question is, how do you move the tuner?

Maybe that’s where writers get their inspiration—they glimpse other worlds and record what they see. They cannot go there, not truly, but they view it in their dreams. Tolkien and Middle Earth. Martin and Westeros. King and the Dark Tower. The Norse and Greeks with their gods. Irish and the Fae, Japanese and the Oni. Maybe all stories are true. Events that happened not here, but somewhere. I am no Child of the Elder Blood. I cannot walk where I wish and slip through cracks the rest cannot see. I am – simply – trapped. I did not bring myself here, and I cannot send myself back.

 

* * *

 

The accounting business is going well. I’ve expanded into doing the books for several businesses. I don’t think that there are any people here who do this kind of work. Mr. Eiji recommended me to a few of his business partners and friends, and I’ve found myself working a lot closer to full time. At this rate, I could open up my own little office. I need space to do all of the paperwork, my current little place isn’t the best of setups. Of course, it’d be just me, but I think I’d like it. Like the gardening, it’s not challenging, but it helps to take my mind off of things. I think it’s because I use the GAAP system. It’s easy to understand, but I don’t think that anyone else here has ever set up something similar and standardized. It’s making me popular, mostly because the clients can easily understand what I’m doing.

I think I should do that tomorrow, go and look for somewhere to rent out as an office space. It would also make me look more official. From all the laws I’ve read on it in Hidden Leaves and Fire Country, there are no requirements for licensing for accountants or financial advisors, no certifications. Looks like the administration of the country has never gotten around to creating it before. Probably never had to. Besides the ninja and a few businessmen, there aren’t a lot of highly educated people here. And the ninja I wouldn’t even call educated. Just trained. They’re extremely good at what they do but when it comes to things like finances they haven’t got a clue.

* * *

Hanako set her pen down and ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t know why she was still writing in the journal; originally, she started because she secretly she feared losing her memories again. Eventually the fear had subsided, now she did it out of habit to keep her thoughts straight and get her philosophical ramblings out of her head.

Now that she had spent months with the guards and had been learning more and more about ninja in the village, she understood more about them. Pumba, the Yamanaka man who had originally did whatever magic spell thing that allowed her to read and write in Fire Dialect had become something of a semi-official counselor. The two met on a bi-weekly basis to talk. They regularly ‘mind-walked’ during these sessions, where he cast a spell to read her mind. It was easier to communicate that way, with no language barriers, and they could _show_ each other what they meant when trying to explain a foreign concept. After a while, he had finally informed her of what chakra was, and how hers was calming somehow. There was a lot in there about frequencies, flow, and vibrations, but basically what she had gotten out of it was that in this world, whatever world it was, chakra existed and not how yoga enthusiasts thought. Some people could emit their chakra in a field, so to speak, and that being around hers was the ninja version of smoking a joint. The only thing they were missing was the cheap delivery pizza and videogames.

She heard a thud against the wall and laughing from the kitchen. She looked up from her place on the couch. A guard had tossed a knife at the head of another, and because they were ninja, he dodged and was laughing as if it was all one big joke. There were currently four men in the house; Ram, a new guard, and three others, whom she suspected was Sparrow, Bull, and a third she either didn’t know or couldn’t place. As the only one on guard duty, Ram had a porcelain mask still covering his face.

Slowly, more and more ninja had started trickling through the residence on a regular basis. Some came just to socialize, others would stay and read books, write in strange scrolls, play board games with one another, and some would get up to god knows what in the massive trees outside. Usually her presence was ignored, but Hanako found herself being slowly drawn into conversations over cups of tea. Mostly she was treated like she didn’t understand what was being said. Well, she understood the words, but the meaning often was beyond her. These hidden techniques, arts, and constant talks of training went over her head. She tried to follow along as best as she could. She felt like she was entering a new workplace where acronyms and nicknames were assigned to everything, but no one would explain what they really _meant_. Hanako was starting to pick up on things through sheer proximity, though.

Hanako had been in a real funk since the last session with Pumba. The two had talked about where Hanako was from, as best they could tell it was a different dimension. The session ended when Hanako asked him to send her back, which was when he informed her grimly that there was no way to do it. That they had no clue how to even replicate the botched summoning seal which had produced her in the first place. Hanako had burst into hysterical tears at that and begged him repeatedly to send her back, to get her out of this place. Her breathing was shallow and she couldn’t control it no matter how she tried. When her vision started going dark she realized in the back of her mind that she was having a panic attack. After Pumba couldn’t get Hanako to stop, Bull did something to her that made her pass out. When she woke up several hours later she was back in her home and Bull was acting like nothing had happened. He didn’t say anything about it, so she didn’t either. She cried in the shower that night and sobbed herself to sleep.

With the exception of her psychologist visits, Hanako’s life continued as normally as it could. She was looking into finding an office for her budding accounting firm, magic ninjas still surrounded her, and she dwelled on her memories of her old life. Even though they constantly performed feats of the impossible, she was getting better and better at concealing her shock and dismay at it. Now, when masked ninja magically teleported into her home, she barely blinked an eye. When a ninja melted out of the floor to sneak attack another ninja like cats playfighting, where it would have previously made her about have a heart-attack, now she simply raised an eyebrow and moved on with her life. After all, when you see the impossible every day, the impossible starts to lose its meaning.

Before she knew it, her home, if she could call it that, had become a hub. Bustling with activity, her small two-bedroom house had become the center of activity for a dedicated group. Around fifteen to twenty ninjas, or shinobi, as they were constantly correcting her to call them, were constantly in and out of her house. Meal times had become absolutely massive. And she meant that. Usually the ninjas would bring their own food but now she was finding that several of them would start whipping up large meals for them all in her tiny kitchen. The vegetable chopping would go on at such rapid speeds that she would sometimes watch in wonder. The precision reminded her of a tv show that showed how machines would manufacture products on assembly lines in factories. The sheer amount of food that each ninja consumed was at least three times the amount that Hanako herself ate. Even the women.

There weren’t a lot of women shinobi, _kunoichi_ , as they were called, but the ones that Hanako had met were impressive to say the least. Self-confident, intimidating, beautiful, and intelligent. They made Hanako feel like nothing more than an ugly wallflower. A few had tried to brush it off, saying that they were too muscular, or to overbearing, but Hanako had come from a world with bodybuilders, models, and powerful businesswomen plastered across the front pages of newspapers and magazines. To her, many of these kunoichi were like a combination of the three, never mind the scars that littered their bodies. To say nothing of the men. The more comfortable the shinobi got around her, the more she found herself being accepted into their lives, and seeing more of them, literally and figuratively.

It was now not uncommon to walk out of her bedroom in the mornings at least once a week to a half-naked shinobi passed out on her couch. Sometimes even two. After a few attempts to gently wake them which ended with her on the floor and a knife to her neck, she left them alone to wake on their own. She learned her lesson with that. She also learned that the smell of cooking eggs or other breakfast foods would usually wake them up. The amount of food that her refrigerator went through in a week amazed Hanako. If it weren’t for the ninjas bringing their own food and replenishing its stock, she would spend all of her income on food alone.

 

* * *

 

At the clacking sound of a piece being placed down on a shogi board, Hanako looked up. Six ninjas were spread out across her living room. The current one on guard duty was Sparrow, but he had his mask pushed up onto the top of his head. By the matching tattoos on the shinobi that stayed around her home, Hanako had long since concluded that they were all part of the same group, and since Sparrow had pushed his mask up on the top of his head instead of concealing his face, she concluded that they all knew one another, so there was no reason to try to conceal identities. Two were playing shogi, a chess-like game, and while the others watched idly or chatted nearby.

She put her book on Fire Country history down. Licking her dry lips, Hanako raised herself to her full height and went to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of tea. Winced. It was a tad too strong. Whoever had brewed the pot had put too many leaves in it. She started another kettle of water to dilute her cup some. While the water was waiting to boil, another body joined her. The ninja made noise to announce that he was on the other side of her. Too many instances of her startling at the sudden appearance of a ninja in the corner of her eye had finally taught her houseguests to make noise around her.

“What was your world like?”

Hanako blinked at the question for a moment, not having expected it. She looked down for a moment and then opened a cabinet to pull out a small plate and arrange some tea snacks on it. She stayed silent until the water boiled and she poured some into her cup.

“That’s a – that’s a hell of question.” She began carefully. The blonde girl took a deep breath and faced the black-haired ninja fully. She searched his features. She didn’t think that he was one of her guards, he must be one of the ones that had only recently started to come by. “In what way you ask? Cultural? Environment? Military? There are many ways I could answer.”

He gazed down at her from his superior height. When you’re only just over five feet tall, everyone has superior height. He was handsome in that classical way. None of his features really stood out individually but put together he had a pleasing face. Hot, but hard to describe to someone if she had to besides tall, dark, and handsome. “Tell me about the culture.” His eyes were a dark chocolate brown, almost black.

She is suddenly aware of all the listening ears. He’s not the only one curious, just the first to outright ask her about it. Damn. She hasn’t talked about this before, mostly because she hasn’t really felt like anyone would care in the first place, but secondly because she is a bit more private of a person than to just talk about her former life to her prison guards. A split second later she makes a decision. Gesturing with her head at the ninja who must be at the very least twice her size, she picks up her cup of tea and plate of sweets and leads the way outside. Just because they all want to know doesn’t mean that she’ll make it easy on them. She also knows that with their superhuman senses they’ll probably be able to hear the conversation outside just fine anyways. Whatever, she’s making a point.

The late afternoon breeze gives a slight chill and Hanako is thankful for her hot tea as she settles herself down in one of her new wicker sofas. Her increasing income from her accounting business has afforded her more luxuries and she’s upgraded from the first few wicker chairs she bought before the summer began. She could have taken a chair but she’s curious where the ninja will sit in relation. Distant, or if he’ll make himself comfortable. While she sets her food and drink down on the little coffee table he opts to make himself comfortable and joins her on the sofa. Past him, she notices that he left the sliding door to the living room open. She tries not to show any sign that she knows or disapproves of the eavesdropping attempts. The least they can do is be subtler about it. She might not be able to do what they can but she’s not an idiot.

“Yamada-san?” His voice snaps her out of her thoughts. She’d been silent and staring at her cup.

“Ah, yes,” she blushes in embarrassment at having zoned out. “My home. To start, is much different than here. Geographia, is much different. I have not seen maps which are showing continent or country to be the same. As example, my home has seven continents and some two hundred countries.” She pauses at some points as she knows that she’s pronouncing things wrong or is using the wrong grammar.

“Technologia is different, too. There is no chakra. Well—is, but—only by some religious kinds. And not like chakra here. There, chakra is like in head. Energy that they think exist but does not really. Instead we use machine for everything. From travel, communicate, fight, everything. I see nothing like it here. Technologia is simple and low here.” Here his brows furrow just slightly. If she hadn’t gotten so adept at reading body language and slight expression cues from not being able to speak, she would have missed it. Much of what ninjas said was in their non-verbal cues and expressions, not their words. Guess it just came with the territory of being spies and mercenaries.

“But chakra here, is like magic. We have nothing like. I have read books about it, that speak of physiologia, and is different. My home, we have no chakra, system, these tenketsu, nothing. For us what you do with chakra like magic. Instead we use technologia.”

A sip of tea. Her mouth was a little dry, and she wasn’t used to speaking so much all at once. Silence reigned between the two. Hanako was fine with letting it hang in the air, if he wanted all of these details he could be more forthcoming with his questions.

She took a bite into a pumpkin flavored pastry and chased it down with a sip of tea. Delicious. Autumn was her favorite time of year, not only because of the weather, but also because of the foods and the cozy clothing. She loved large knitted sweaters and scarves. In her home world, she was a fan of the Scandinavian principles of _hygge_ and _lagom_ and tried to practice both in her life. It hadn’t changed here. Even though her home was constantly invaded by ninjas, she tried to keep her patio and bedroom her own. Fluffy, comfortable blankets were scattered throughout the place and she had found herself starting to consider the possibility of installing a fire pit into the backyard, or even a fire bowl of some kind, if she could find the materials to make one herself.

“So, your reaction to the hidden arts was—” he trailed off, prompting her to finish his sentence.

“Shocking. It was shocking, shinobi-san.” She shrugged, trying to play off her slight shiver. At the cold or at the memory, she wasn’t sure. “I had never seen anything like, and it frightened me.”

“And now?” He questioned.

“Now, I am surrounded. Nowhere to go. Trapped. I have to get used.” She lowered her eyes to her cup of tea. “I have no other choice but to.”

They were quiet for a few more moments before the shinobi before her broke the silence again. Hanako noted that the conversation inside had dulled to a low whisper.

“Tell me about you,” he prodded. “What was your life like?” His gaze felt heavy on her. She wasn’t often the object of this much scrutiny except in her sessions with Pumba. Usually she was ignored like the civilian she was.

She shifted a little uncomfortably under his gaze. “Me? I was accountant. I studied in university for it, studied other things too, but that was – certificate.” She didn’t know the word for degree or major. For that matter, she wasn’t even sure if there were that many universities here to give out degrees in the first place. “I also learned other things, like music and art, some other language as well.”

“Were you married?”

Hanako colored. The question was so direct especially from a people who usually weren’t. She knew why he was asking. Women here, kunoichi included, tended to be married by sixteen if they were from a more conservative family. Twenty-year-olds were questioned as to why they hadn’t settled down yet, and any woman to reach the age of twenty-five without a good reason to her unmarried status was regarded an old maid. Hanako herself, being a little over twenty-four was aware that she had reached that status. “No, I never was,” she replied. “Women in my home don’t marry as young as here. Is common to be thirty before marrying.”

The shinobi’s eyes widened slightly. “Truly? How long do people live in your homeland?” He asked.

“As average, seventy-eight. Some even to one hundred and over. I think oldest person on record was one hundred and twenty.”

His eyes really widened at that piece of information. He sat back in his chair contemplating what she had just said. He looked up at her, pinning her with his eyes. “Then how old are you?” He paused, realizing that it wasn’t always a good idea to ask a woman her age. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he added.

Lips curled into a wry smile, “Twenty-four,” she replied.

"Oh," he replied. When there were no more questions forthcoming she finished her tea and pastries at a leisurely pace before gathering up the dishes. Nodding to him, she exited the patio into the house. The ninjas inside looked as if they were still interested in their shogi game, but Hanako knew that they had been listening to every word spoken outside.

She washed her dishes and retrieved her book before retreating to her bedroom and closing the door. The lock on the door was simply a formality, she knew that the ninjas were more than capable of getting past any barriers that she might put into place, but it sent a message to engage the lock all the same.


	6. Beware the Guardians in the Dark

#  **Chapter 6:**

#  **_Beware the Guardians in the Dark_ **

****

* * *

_I'm only human, can't you see? I made, I made a mistake, please just look me in my face, tell me everything's okay._

 

****

* * *

 

I don’t know what to write today.

****

* * *

A pencil twirled around fingers before the tip came to rest at the corner of a woman’s lips. She then tapped it against the paper. Eyes closed hard, and fingers squeezed the bridge of her nose between her eyes. Her eyes narrowed, Hanako tossed the pencil overhand, point first. It sailed forward, ever closer to its target. A hand swiped out, a flutter to the naked eye, and the pencil clattered down on the floor, rolling until it hit the leg of a chair.

“Hanako, what are you doing?” Hanako looked sheepishly up at the woman now towering over her. Asuka’s violet hair seemed to stand up behind her mask of its own accord. Hanako was convinced that it was full of hair gel to do it.

The blonde smiled up at Asuka cheekily. “Just testing reflex.” Asuka rolled her eyes behind the mask and went back to her reading.

Hanako let herself fall into a laying position on the couch and rolled over so that she was looking out the window. The ground was crusted over with a mixture of ice and snow. A disadvantage of Fire Country was that it was warm enough that the snow wouldn’t last, but cold enough that there would be snow. As a result, the weather tended to snow, then melt, then freeze, then melt, then freeze, and repeat until it was either gone or a fresh layer of snow appeared. It wasn’t uncommon for non-shinobi residents to put metal cleats on their shoes so that they could gain traction on the ice that would appear on the streets. The shinobi never seemed to have a problem with it but those who couldn’t utilize their chakra did.

She threw a glance to the clock in the room to check the time. 7:30 AM. Time to get ready. Hanako padded into her bedroom and started her makeup routine. One thing that she was ever thankful for was the universality of makeup. Most of it reminded her of the Korean brands that had started to permeate the US markets. Unlike most female shinobi – kunoichi, she reminded herself – Hanako put on a full-face of makeup every time she went out. Not that her made-up face looked significantly different from not, it was just her way of making sure that she always looked her best. Often when she was at home, even if she had houseguests over, Hanako didn’t put on any products. But any time she went purposefully into public she did.

Currently it was just Hanako and Asuka in the house. A new white-haired shinobi had been in the living room with Asuka when Hanako went to bed the previous night but there was no sign of him the next morning. The crazy hair colors were one thing that Hanako had trouble getting over. In her old world, Terra, she was starting to call it, people only had different hair colors or eye colors if they dyed it or put in contacts. Here, naturally odd-colored hair, eyes, and even skin markings that looked like tattoos were common.  It took Hanako a little to get over. It was, in some ways, like being in Portland again.

Once she finished putting a wing eyeliner that she thought looked even on both sides, it always took her multiple tries to get it right, she started to put the finishing touches, mascara and a setting powder. Hanako started mentally running through her day plans. Office from 9 to 5, but she’d have a break in there. Where to have lunch? Hanako wasn’t adept at making any Fire Country dishes, and bento boxes were the accepted lunch types. She also didn’t have any peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches with.

Hanako had started out with mostly being the accountant for businesses, but if she was honest, she had inadvertently expanded herself into providing services for individuals. It had started when she was approached in the marketplace while trying to buy food one day by a distraught woman whose son had just died several weeks before. Hanako didn’t know what it was in her that seized at the sight of this woman. She was in her late 60’s, and her son was a shinobi who had died in the recent war. Now, she was receiving all kinds of documents and information that she didn’t understand about his assets and his debts that were now not being paid. Something about the way the woman was talking struck a chord within Hanako, reminded her of her own mother, and so she agreed to help. The two women set up a time to meet the next day at a tea house and Hanako went over the task of helping the woman untangle the accounts.

The incident had only reinforced to Hanako her need to get an actual office, and so that week she finally went seriously shopping for an office space, rather than just saying that she was going to do it. She had finally found an office in an old building that had been in Hidden Leaves since its founding, the owner assured her. It was very old-style, high ceilings and windows with wooden shutters to help the heat vent out in the summer, the door to the office had a frosted opaque glass pane in it. Really, it was very noir feeling, reminiscent of a 1940’s detective movie in which the hard-drinking private eye has his own office where the damsel in distress finds him. Hanako was neither a damsel, nor a private eye, but the office suited her just fine. The rent was cheap, and from what Hanako could tell it was mostly because the building was so old and, really, out of date. The furniture there had been left by the last tenants, and was rather dated, and the building itself wasn’t the most prime of real estate. Too far from most of the city’s centers to be of significant value.

Once Hanako finished with her makeup, she selected some professional clothes and got dressed before fixing her hair into a simple ponytail. She still tended toward the business-casual style she had worn on Terra before; bankers and the like wore it here, so really since she was an accountant, it was very similar to the same thing. Grabbing her bag, jacket, and scarf, Hanako headed for the door. Asuka fixed her mask into place and with a puff of smoke assumed the form of a young black-haired women with average features and a yukata before following her out of the door. Asuka generally stayed closer to Hanako when guarding her, preferring to stay in sight rather than like some others which preferred to never be seen. Since she was friendly enough, Hanako really didn’t mind. She wasn’t rude, or overly friendly, the two women got along fine.

The streets were beginning to fill with people going about their daily business. Most of them, like Hanako, were either going to their workplaces or taking children to school or going to the markets. Blurs darted over the rooftops as shinobi traveled back and forth. Asuka held back a little and followed from a slight distance. The building that her office was in was just in the next district over, situated near the Police Department, and just south and east of the Nara and Akimichi clan compounds. From where Hanako’s home was on the banks of the Naka river, it was really a rather short walk. Around 10 minutes or so, more if she didn’t walk quickly or detour for anything. Eventually she reached the building around 30 minutes before her hours started. Being her own boss was a rather different experience. For the first time in her life, Hanako was finding that if she was late to the office, there were no repercussions. If she wanted to leave early and close up, there was no one to look disapprovingly at her. On the other hand, if she didn’t bring in clients, she wouldn’t eat. So, it kind of balanced out.

The glass front on the building with its hand-painted signs proclaiming whose offices were inside finally had the addition of her tiny business, “Yamada Public Accounting” in very small letters. She hadn’t wanted to shell out the cash for the larger sign. There wasn’t a regulatory body in Fire Country, from all the laws Hanako had checked that governed accountants, or licensed them, or even gave a definition of them. From what she could find, the capital city had some form of regulation over it in local form, but it was a field that hadn’t quite been explored in a regulatory sense yet on a national level.

She said hello to the building manager, an elderly man who sat reading the paper by the reception desk and continued up the stairs. Asuka had disappeared into the crowd some time before. Once up the stairs, her door with its frosted window was at the end of the hallway on the second floor. Luckily for Hanako, she was on the north side of the building, so it didn’t get as hot in summer. On the flip side, when it was cold like this, it also didn’t heat up as well either. ‘Hanako Public Accounting’ was hand painted on the frosted glass again, this time in larger lettering than what was on the outside of the building. She unlocked the door and went inside.

The office was small and shabby, but comfortable. It opened into a small waiting room with a desk for a receptionist, with a small bathroom and kitchen off to the right, and behind the receptionist desk and to the right were two other small offices. Currently, Hanako had set up one of the offices as a storage area for documents, and the other with a desk, a couch, and a few other things for tea if she had a client come in who needed more privacy. But for the most part she worked in the main room at the receptionist desk so that she was immediately available for anyone who walked in. She had neither the work load, nor the funds to hire an assistant. Most, if not all, of her work she could complete during normal hours. Only on a few occasions when a business client came in did she have to put in overtime, but that was usually predictable – at the end of the month most often. The individual clients were the random ones. They found her by word of mouth, generally the family members of shinobi who had died and were trying to untangle finances, or shinobi themselves trying to tie up finances so that their families would be cared for. If the situation was too complicated Hanako usually tried to refer them to a lawyer or the Hokage administration for the cases that were beyond what she could help with. But for the most part she was helping to figure out where exactly money had gone, to whom it was owed, and what was left. For those who found her asking for help making sure their affairs were in order, she suspected that most of them were going on long-term assignments, she simply gave advice, and referred them to an estate attorney for any legal things like where their assets would go if they were to never return. But she did help draw up plans for them. She didn’t always get paid immediately, usually the civilians untangling financial messes would reimburse her in other ways. She had ended up with her current tea set that way, but more often than not they would bring by food. The shinobi usually came by at later dates with money, most likely subtracted from their assignment payouts.

Setting her things down on the desk, Hanako started heating water for tea. She preferred coffee for mornings by far, but the beans were difficult to get, and expensive once found. She also pulled out a package of cookies from the cabinet. Once the water was hot, she made a pot of tea and took both it and the cookies to the private office where she set it out. Asuka wasn’t in sight but that didn’t mean anything when it came to people who could literally materialize from out of the walls.

That done, she went back to her desk. Once she tallied up her personal accounts and the business account, everything looked good. The business was in the black, and it didn’t look like there was too much she needed to worry about. There was a certain advantage to being somewhat of a pioneer in a field. Not to mention, in a world where the amount of kanji one could read was a major signifier of their education level, she had managed to get the reading and writing of someone not only educated, but an intel expert with familiarity in other dialects other than Fire Country. Even though she had trouble speaking still, she had a rather high level of education when it came to writing.  

An old radio in the corner of the room that looked like it was straight out of the 1940’s played a version of swing music faintly. The radiator, probably the newest thing in the place, emitted enough heat that she didn’t feel it necessary to keep her jacket on, but her scarf remained in place wrapped now around her shoulders

Around mid-morning, she got up to refill her tea. The pot in the other room was drained and half the cookies were eaten. Still no sign of Asuka though. Hanako refilled the pot and her cup and settled back down to work. After a while of trying to figure out where some receipts were filed and under what category in a ledger, the door opened.

A woman stepped through. A very young woman, holding the hand of a young boy. Both had pink hair and bright green eyes. They couldn’t possibly be mother and child with that age difference, Hanako thought, unless something horribly wrong had occurred. The young woman was wearing a traditional kimono, black with a black obi. The little boy was dressed much the same with a matching hakama.

Hanako may have been a foreigner, but even she knew how formal of attire the two in front of her were wearing was. She was rather astounded for a moment before she caught herself. Bowing to the degree she had been taught was appropriate and professional, “How can I assist you today?”  

The woman bowed first in response, the little boy a half second later after a subtle nudge from the woman. “Please, ma’am, I have been told that you can help us.” She straightened up, emerald eyes brimming with sorrow. “Please take care of us.”

Recognizing the traditional phrase, Hanako nodded and ushered the two into the private office while she retreated to make fresh tea for the three of them. There was a fresh pot in the private room, but it was for her guard. While her newest clients wouldn’t know, she couldn’t imagine that Asuka would think very well of it if she allowed clients to drink from the same vessel. Fire Country was a little funny about things like that, Hanako had found. As she gathered together the things she needed, food, tea, and the appropriate little cups and plates, she wondered. Funeral attire, she was sure. The two had either just come from a funeral or had dressed up just to see her, and she wasn’t sure which.

Tea ceremonies were something that Hanako had no education in, so she very simply and unceremoniously placed everything for her guests before settling down at the table with them. Once the tea was poured and everyone had a chance to take a sip, she settled back to wait for the young woman to talk.

It took a few moments, the pink-haired girl had to take a moment to compose herself and gather the emotional mask that so many in Fire Country tried to wear in social situations. Her little brother? Son? Cousin? He was trying his best, little face screwed up in what he probably thought was a brave face but looked like one of extreme concentration.

“My name is Haruno Satoko,” the girl began. “This is my brother, Souta Haruno. My parents are merchants of the esteemed Haruno clan.” Her green eyes glittered. “Four months ago, they left on a trip to the Country of Wind.  The trip should have taken only two months, but here we are two months past that, and they still have not returned.” At this, she reached a hand into the sleeve of her black kimono, which Hanako was noticing was not a simple black, but also had willow trees and camellias embroidered on it with black thread. “Three days ago, my brother and I received a scroll from the Office of the Esteemed Fire Shadow.” She withdrew a black scroll with a white seal from her sleeve and gave it to Hanako who began to read it.

“They’re not dead! I know this to be true. But the Honorable Fire Shadow has seen fit to declare them dead,” her voice shook with emotion. “I remain seven months from the age of majority. My Honorable Uncle is taking guardianship and control of our parents’ holdings until such time. Legally, I have no recourse.”

“I take it that you do not trust this uncle, Haruno-san,” Hanako said, sensing the direction the conversation was taking when Satoko paused.

Satoko shook her head. “My father told me he was a drunkard and a gambler who lived in the Land of Hot Water on the generosity of our Honored Grandfather. Because I cannot legally control my family’s holding in Fire Country, I am afraid that if he is given the chance to take guardianship of the Haruno Clan’s holdings in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, then he will sell everything for coin to pay his gambling debts and leave my brother and I destitute, no matter what my Honored Grandfather demands.” She bowed her head, pink hair falling forward. “If he arrives in The Village Hidden in the Leaves before my Honored Grandfather’s representative, there is nothing that I can do. When I told my father’s business associates of the situation, I was told that you might be able to help. That you have helped people before and not taken advantage of their weakness. I was told that you had honor, Yamada-san,” the last part was said challengingly.

“Honor?” Hanako replied. “In a shinobi village?” She huffed a chuckle. “Yes, I have helped those who need, but I not call it same as values you hold. If you will forgive, I explain.” The blonde quirked a lip. “I come from far away place, you may call it – Land of Steel if you wish – and there, things is very different. Family mean different thing. In small ways, but ways big enough to matter. In my country, we help those in need, that way if we ever in need, someone help us. ‘Today me, tomorrow you.’” She took a sip of tea. “Yes, I will help. But service not free. Instead, what you can afford. Please, not mistake my helping for something else. Your honor and mine are not same. I am from different place, there, things done different. Besides, this uncle sound terrible,” Hanako winked at Satoko and leaned back.  Satoko’s brother, who had been looking very tense relaxed a little at her words. “I help because I wish to, not because honor demands.”

“Now, I am not lawyer. I cannot do everything. What I do is with finance. I can help with money and give advice, suggestion, but please, also find lawyer to help. I not know everything,” Hanako said honestly.

“Hai,” Satoko replied. “My father always told us that one cannot take what they cannot find. Is there a way to – obscure – the money? The assets? We have only to outlast these next seven months until I reach the age to take control of the business myself. If I can keep him from taking everything in that time, then we will be safe,” she explained her plan.

Hanako thought for a moment before nodding her head. “Yes, there are legal ways. Some illegal, too, but I won’t advise any of those. Have you asked of Fire Shadow to – how do you say – step in, change situation,”

“Intervene?” Souta supplied helpfully, the first words that he had spoken the entire exchange. Satoko elbowed him to keep quiet.

Hanako smiled at him. “Yes, intervene is word.” She turned her attention back to Satoko. “Have you asked for intervening of Fire Shadow?”

She shook her head, pink hair dancing gently about it. “I have not. The shinobi of this village have traditionally not bothered with the affairs of merchants, much less civilians.”

Hanako bit her lip. “It’s risky. I not suggest this lightly, but.” She considered her next words carefully. “Shinobi have interest in merchants. They use to be undercover. To go unnoticed to other place. Where does Haruno clan have business?”

“Fire, Wind, Tea, Earth, Lightening, Stone, Hot Water, Frost, and Iron,” she replied.

“That is many places. If Haruno clan offer future help to shinobi in return for protection now, Fire Shadow may intervene. Stop uncle better than you or I.”

Both Harunos looked taken aback at her suggestion, as if the act were unthinkable. “Is just advice, possible path forward,” she gently placated. “Only to be taken if all other option is gone.” Her tone sharpening, she continued. “Now, to numbers. Yes, is possible to hide money, ownership, those things. Can create new company. Owned by you, or trusted one, that then own assets. Think of being like shell game. Where is stone? Which shell? Do you know which one to check? Will look like you own nothing, because will not know where to look,” she explained.

As the two siblings, mostly Satoko, walked Hanako through the business’ finances, she started to get a better picture of what was at stake. The Haruno clan spanned across several countries, mostly bringing goods to the capital and major cities of those countries. The clan head, their grandfather, was in Iron Country, the clan’s country of origin. The siblings’ parents had come to Fire Country to work on establishing a new branch  in it, and any word that would get to the clan head would likely be too late before their much closer uncle in Land of Hot Springs had done too much damage to the fledgling branch to save it. Satoko estimated that they had maybe four weeks before he arrived, less if he hired a shinobi escort.

Hanako marveled that the seventeen-year old was capable of such clear-headedness. Shinobi, especially, raised their children to be autonomous at much younger ages than Terra had. Even some civilians, like merchant clans, she was guessing, engaged in similar practices. If Hanako had been in the same situation on Terra, she would likely have panicked and lost her mind. She never would have thought to ask around for help like Satoko had. Granted, the girl was desperate to come to her, a complete foreigner for help, but then again so were most of those who came to her.

As they came to an agreement about how a shell company would be created, Hanako demanded that Satoko retain either a lawyer, or the two draft up a contract that would then be witnessed by shinobi. For Satoko’s own protection, she insisted. Hanako had come from a world where a lack of a contract when any large amount of money displayed the idiocy of those involved, and she wanted everything done very by the book. Eventually they sketched out a rough agreement, and Satoko agreed to return in a few days with the documents necessary to create a shell company and sign over the assets to it.

If she was being honest with herself, Hanako wasn’t sure how comfortable she was doing this. She really felt that lawyers should be involved with the situation, but Fire Country didn’t really operate that way. Verbal contracts still were the way that many people did business, and only large merchant deals took the time to draw up contracts. She wasn’t doing it for free though, in return for her services, the Haruno siblings had agreed to pay her a retainer, and a fee contingent upon the successful retainment of assets from the uncle. When they finally left near the end of the day, Hanako felt exhausted mentally. Moral implications aside, she would be drafting the documents for the creation of a shell company, maybe two, depending on how determine this uncle likely was to find the Haruno money, and all by hand. No computers to draft it and then print once ready. This would be a lot of writing mostly by hand. Hanako was about ready to invest in a typewriter, it was looking like it would be worth it at this point. If she could learn to use it effectively, it would also cut down on the amount of time she was currently spending on her other clients.

 

****

* * *

 

Once done for the day, she started clearing up documents and ordering them to resume the next day as well as straightening the office and washing the dishes used. As she was rinsing off the last plate, someone hopped up to sit on the counter next to her. Hanako jumped, dropping the plate into the sink with a crash. “Jiizuhs,” she exclaimed, hand over her chest to stop her heart from beating so fast. The ANBU who scared her tilted his head in an unnerving way from behind the utilitarian white wolf mask marked only with a few blue highlights. His hair was white. Maybe the shinobi from the evening before who was with Asuka.

“Jiizuhs?” He repeated.

“Jesus,” Hanako corrected, grabbing the dropped plate to rewash. “Is expression. Of surprise,” she added, glaring at him. He had white hair that stuck up from around his mask. “Where’s Asuka?”

“Gone,” he replied simply. “Her shift was over. I’m the new replacement.” His tone was light and jesting, but Hanako got goosebumps running up her arms down her spine from it. There was something off about it, like he was cheered up in a sadistic way from her being scared.

“Right,” Hanako said, quickly washing the last dish and gathering up her things. She quickly put on her outerwear while trying to disguise how uncomfortable she was. Once ready and the door locked, she set out. She didn’t watch where the ANBU went and didn’t really care to. She stopped at a few stalls on the way to pick up vegetables for her dinner, but otherwise went straight home. The day had been long and trying, and she didn’t feel like she had energy for another shinobi trying to play mind games because they were bored.

 

****

* * *

 

The uncanny valley feeling didn’t go away as Wolf watched her the entire time she made dinner. Usually, if a guard was a bit weird, they tended to do it away from her, went outside, sat in a tree, hid in a wall, something else. Wolf just watched.

Two shinobi joined them for dinner, Bull sans disguise and the newcomer who had asked her about her home a few weeks previously. Neither of them were in uniform. Instead the two were both dressed in more casual dark blue pants and long sleeve shirts that seemed very standard issue. The newcomer introduced himself as Yamashiro Takanori.

After dinner was cleaned up, Hanako showered before changing into some more comfortable clothes. Since the house was chilly, she forewent her usual shorts for some warmer fleece tights and an oversized off the shoulder sweater. Not surprisingly, Yamashiro and Bull were still there when she emerged back into the living room.  She curled up onto the couch in the living room surrounded by a fluffy throw blanket to do her evening reading before bed.

Even though there was only one couch, the room had several chairs, so Hanako was surprised when the two plopped down on either side of Hanako on the couch. Wolf was obviously made the odd man out. Hanako figured that he sensed that because he disappeared from his place at the dining room table in a puff of smoke.

Hanako made a face and waved at it, trying to get it out of her face when the smoke drifted through the room. “Don’t let him get to you,” Bull said lowly, lips inches from her ear.

The blonde froze. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“Wolf,” Bull said. “He’s one of the high-strung ones. Ignore it, he’s just trying to play on your nerves. Happens to some of us when we’ve been in the field too long. Taking amusement from places we really shouldn’t.” She felt the warm air from his breath play around her ear and neck and suddenly felt rather warm. “Especially when it’s from those who can’t fight back. A bit unfair, don’t you think?”

Awareness of how close both shinobi were sitting to her spread throughout her body. “Very,” Hanako agreed, nodding her head. She turned her head, looking at Bull more closely. Now that she was more familiar with the ninja, she could tell when they were wearing those disguises – henges – or not. A henge had this blurring about it, like the CGI rendering of a movie that wasn’t quite fully done. With a henge, details like the pores, individual hairs, they just weren’t there. Or weren’t rendered in high enough quality to pass. Bull wasn’t wearing a henge this time, it was his real face. Deep, chocolate brown eyes, lips on the thin side, strong chin, crooked nose. Scar starting above his right eyebrow and extending down across his nose to his left cheek.

Yamashiro moved his arm, draping it across the back of the sofa, not quite touching Hanako, and not quite – not. “We’ll protect you,” he said, winking at her.

Hanako ducked her head. “Thanks,” she said softly. It hadn’t been just her who got strange vibes from Wolf. The knowledge that it wasn’t all in her head gave her relief. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. It had been a long day, and she hadn’t really needed the new addition of her very strange guard on top of it.

“Now give me some of that blanket, it’s cold in here!” Bull declared, breaking the spell and pulling part of her throw blanket over his lap before pulling his own book out to start reading.

Behind her, Yamashiro’s arm came to rest fully on her shoulder as he also grabbed part of the blanket to scoot under. The three spent the rest of the evening reading in comfortable silence, all next to one another, and if Hanako occasionally felt Bull’s hand stroking her leg soothingly under the blanket, or Yamashiro’s fingers rubbing small circles on her shoulder, she didn’t say anything.


	7. Bears and Tigers and Wolves, Oh My!

#  **Chapter 7:**

#  **_Bears and Tigers and Wolves, Oh My!_ **

 

**_***********_ **

 

_Dommage, Dommage, too bad we couldn't make our dreams come true._

 

_*************** _

 

It’s been three weeks. I haven’t been able to write in 3 weeks. What do I even say?

The weather is cold and chilly. Wet, too. It alternates between snowing, freezing, sleeting, and raining, all sometimes in the same week. I’ve invested in some sturdy rainboots that seem to get close to daily wear from me. I sometimes hate how far away the office is, I miss having a car to commute in. Like, really fucking miss it. I have to walk no matter what, and that isn’t bad in and of itself, but I didn’t choose this! It’s not like I moved somewhere, or I downsized, or whatever. I just miss home. I miss the timeliness of everything. Not having to wait at the bank, not having to wait for any government office stuff. Go to the grocery store, bam. It’s all there. Don’t have to go from place to place, it’s a one stop shop, and then get in your car and go immediately home.

I’ve done what I can to be independent. I still feel obligated though. The house, the utilities, food, they’re all paid for. Technically I get a little stipend, but I don’t need it.  Not really. In fact, most of my money goes to the accounting firm, or buying myself comfy furnishings. I’m actually quite comfortable here and I honestly don’t like it. Not really. Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night, I remember what was done to me, what I went through. I don’t I can’t become dependent on people like that. I get the shakes sometimes. I’m not sure what sets them off, but sometimes my hands will just start shaking and I can’t do anything about it. I love and hate small spaces.

In the last month or so, I feel like a grey veil is being lifted from my world. It’s like I was numb and cold this last year, and I’m finally starting to warm up. I’m not sure I like it though. Being numb was easy, I didn’t care about my clients as much; I could keep myself emotionally distant from them. Now I feel the color bloom of emotion. Love, anger, passion, hate, hurt, pain, contentment. It’s fucked up. I’m relieved when I feel the emotions again though, I missed them.

The nightmares have been going away though. I’m still up early, but I don’t put off going to bed anymore because of the nightmares. Now I have them once or twice a week instead of every night. Looking at everything, I think that I’ve been depressed for most of the time. I don’t really blame myself, but I should have done something sooner to try and get out of it. The firm has helped the most, I think. I have a reason to get out of bed in the morning, to try and do something besides garden and stare off into the distance. Something to get me moving, motivated, people to help. It’s a bit stupid of me to take charity cases, I know. I could be making so much more, but I feel like maybe there’s a reason I was sent here. There’s a debt I have to work off. Maybe if I wasn’t such a terrible person before, I wouldn’t have been snatched away and dumped somewhere crazy. Or in a coma. Whatever this is. It could very well still be a coma, I don’t know. But I must have done something terrible to get put here so the least I can do is try to work off that debt somehow. 

Sure, I make my own money, but it wouldn’t be fair of me to say that I am not taken care of. I am. I don’t pay for the house; I get a stipend for food; I don’t have to worry about someone attacking me, that’s for sure. There was this one time when I was in the market and some little kids were running around playing chase. Could’ve been eleven, twelve at the most. Absolute most. One of them, some red-haired little chit, got the grand old idea to act like a real ninja and start throwing real knives, screaming the whole time about how she was going to be the next Fire Shadow, and she threw several of them went into the crowd instead of wherever the little brat was aiming. Real fucking smart, huh? Like, I know there are a lot of ninja that live in Hidden Leaves, but in the marketplace? Ain’t a lot of them. It’s mostly people like me. Anyways, none of the knives came close to me, but I still got flying tackled by my guard. Well, maybe tackled isn’t the right word, but they knocked the fucking wind out of me, I could barely breathe for a few minutes and I felt like I got punted across the street. One second, I was on one side of the street, Knives McGoo goes nuts, and the next second, I’m 100 feet away, can barely hear anything and can’t breathe. Guard goes over and went after the kids, gave ‘em a real talking to and dragged the one throwing knives off somewhere, probably back to their parents. Little fucker.

Besides giving me a heart attack, at least I found out that my guards are truly bodyguards, they won’t let anything happen to me if they can help it. I’m not sure they’d go all Secret Service on me, but at least I don’t have to worry about dying from some random knife-happy kid. More than I can say for the rest of the people there.

 

**_***********_ **

 

A white porcelain face stared at Hanako. Well, she thought it was staring. The ANBU could have been sleeping for all she knew, she couldn’t see his eyes, just black holes where the eyes should be. This guard really liked to try to freak her out, she knew. The happy wolf just stared back.

The living area was small, she couldn’t avoid him forever. He’d been there for a week and a half with no sign of letting up. Bull’s warning still ringing in her ears, Hanako wondered if she could play this game much longer.  Before she could really think about what she was doing, her hands started moving. Two cups of tea poured, one served to him, before she started melting butter in a skillet to start scrambling eggs. She turned halfway around.

Three eggs for herself, and then she started cracking eggs. And more eggs. Around fifteen eggs overall went into the skillet. “Salt and pepper?” She asked. The most infinitesimal of nods was the reply, so she added just a hint of seasonings careful not to over-salt.

Once the eggs were scrambled to her satisfaction, she put them all onto a large plate and served them onto the table. Settings for two places soon followed, and she grabbed her cup of tea which had cooled sufficiently to drink. Serving herself from the main plate, she started eating, not bothering to verbally invite Wolf to eat.

He let the invitation stand unanswered for a minute or two before sliding himself into the chair across from her. His behavior reminded Hanako of a dog that was unsure of its new place. A dog that was simultaneously ready to fight to assert its place in the pack and too unsure to fight for its new place. The mask slid up just far enough for him to eat, no more.

She broke the silence first. “So why did you get assigned to me?” she said conversationally, acting as though the question were about the weather.

He didn’t respond, but his chopsticks stopped moving from his plate to his mouth. Hanko responded as if he had spoken. “Yeah? Same reason as everyone else, huh.” She gestured with her chopsticks and affected a high-pitched voice. “Oh no, Wolfy, you too uptight. Take time off, go watch boring-ass chick live boring-ass life. Relax, don’t be so uptight.” The still-visible mouth quirked into a small smile.

Hanako huffed. “If I could say you ‘go away, I don’t need you’, I would.” She resumed eating.

Once she was done, she took her dishes and started cleaning them along with the skillet used. Once she had finished with the skillet, an extra plate and chopsticks appeared next to her on the counter without her noticing. Those, too, were cleaned. When she turned around, Wolf was still at the table, still looking at her.

Annoyance was starting to set in. “Truly, what’s with staring?”

No response.

A sigh escaped her chest. “Look, I don’t know if staring is okay with your people. It’s not with mine. Not with civilian. Is rather rude, in fact. If that was goal, congratulations. Accomplished. You’re so good at making unarmed civilian nervous.” Hanako rolled her eyes and refilled her tea before going back to her room. Her peace offering of food hadn’t seemed to make much of a difference.

Searching through the room, the blonde started finding clothes warm enough to go out. Since it was the weekend she wasn’t planning to be at the office. She also didn’t want to stay at home with Creeper McGee so she’d rather go somewhere where he’d be forced to be less weird. Selecting a heavy sweater and a comfortable pair of jeans, she put on some light makeup before sweeping her hair up into a messy bun. She grabbed a coat and put some of the normal contents of her purse in the inner pockets before leaving the room.

In the living room she stopped short at a strange scene. Two ANBU were standing face to face, Wolf and a bear mask. Her reentry into the room seemed to break the tension between the two and with a puff of smoke, Wolf disappeared while the bear masked ANBU remained.

He, at least Hanako thought it was a he, turned to her. Bowed just slightly. “I am your new guard, replacing Operative Wolf. You may call me Bear. Please take care of me.” Deep voice, a man, Hanako decided. “Would you prefer that I remain close to you or out of sight?”

“It doesn’t make a difference. Just don’t be weird like Wolf.” She said in a surely tone. Bear nodded his head in what she guessed approximated a bow and gave him a half-hearted apologetic smile. “I’m going out, you’re free to follow along however you want.” A puff of smoke turned him into a non-descript dark-haired older man. She took her coat and the house keys from a bowl by the door before exiting and locking the door behind her once Bear was through.

Sketching a plan in her mind, she quickly decided to walk along the river until it came to the memorial park. The ice of the previous weeks had melted, leaving mud and damp streets in its wake. The only thing she was missing was headphones to block out the world. Mist rose above the Naka, it was still morning and the sun had yet to burn it all off. The river lazily ran, deceptively slow – the river was deep, and could fill with even more water before the banks would run over. It cut suddenly down compared to the land around it, causing the foreigner to wonder if it was a natural river, or one created. The cold caused breath to puff out in little white clouds. Not quite freezing, just above it. Very few people were awake and moving around. The civilians tended to stay on a later schedule, the shinobi kept to their areas. Hanako knew that there were some sparring areas nearby, she heard the faint clashing and clanging of steel often enough on her walks, but she had never gone looking for the source. She was already surrounded by enough magic and didn’t need that extra trouble. Birds chirped loudly, some trilling songs that she had never heard until arriving in Hidden Leaves.

A commotion caught Hanako’s eye, disturbing the peacefulness of her walk. On the other side of the river, at one of the rare places where the land dipped down to allow for shallows in the river, was a man and three kids. Couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen. The kids were walking from the shore, out onto the river, quite literally walking on the surface of the water, until they reached some point, usually a few yards out, and broke the surface tension and fell into the water with a loud splash. The splashes were quite interesting themselves, rather than the water parting and allowing them to slip in, like Hanako would have expected, the water seemed to almost, well, explode at their feet, causing them to fall in, usually accompanied by shouts of terror.

The blonde became rather curious. She’d never seen something like this before. Spying a bench a little bit off the walkway, she took a seat to watch. It was really quite comical; the kids would wave their arms around dramatically every time they fell in, yelling all the while words too quick for Hanako to understand, while the man – their teacher, she presumed – would shake his head, frown, and order them to swim back and try again.

‘So this is how they teach magic,’ she thought to herself. ‘Huh, who would have thought.’ She watched, interested, for a while. One or two people passed by, none of them seemed to find the scene playing out a slightly bit interesting. Beyond the other bank of the Naka, more and more people were moving around, going about their days. The mist was beginning to burn off the river as the sun steadily rose and the city was coming to life. Hanako’s concentration was broken when someone approached her. A tall woman, slender, but moving in that lithe, cat-like way that shinobi had. A kunoichi. Violet hair was pulled back into a ponytail that seemed to spike of its own accord in a way that Hanako found familiar. She couldn’t quite place where she had seen – Asuka! The name sprang to the forefront of her mind. Asuka didn’t pass by the bench like Hanako had halfway expected. Hanako scooted over to make space for her to be comfortable – most shinobi didn’t like to be too close to people they didn’t know well. The violet haired woman sat down, joining Hanako.

“I thought I sensed you,” she said in greeting.

“Good morning,” the blonde replied a friendly smile on her face.

For the first time, Hanako was able to see Asuka’s features. Before they had always been hidden behind a porcelain mask. She had sharp features that, while not delicate, had a classical beauty to them. Thick arched eyebrows that Cara Delevingne would kill for, and light grey-lilac colored eyes. In short, she was gorgeous. Hanako felt a little self-conscious next to her for a few moments before she shook it off. Asuka watched the scene still playing out, the kids were reaching further into the river now and the man teaching them didn’t have his arms crossed anymore, instead he was starting to give encouragement.

“They’re learning to water walk,” Asuka explained. “One can use chakra for many things, but it’s how we stick to surfaces, walk on water, and move so quickly. Those kids have probably been with their teacher for around a year, maybe two, if they’re moving on to water walking now.”

“Is it hard?” Hanako asked, curiosity piqued.

“Depends,” Asuka replied. “The more chakra one has, the harder it is to control it. But control must be trained. A civilian can’t just start walking on water one day, they would have to meditate to learn to touch their chakra in the first place before they could even hope to manipulate it.” She looked Hanako in the eye. “It’s extremely difficult to learn to touch your chakra after the age of ten. If one doesn’t start shinobi training before that age, they’ll likely never become a shinobi. Usually it’s only monks who learn to touch and then control it later in life.”

“Chakra fuels this world,” Hanako replied after a moment at the revelation. “My home, we uh, we learned to use electricity. Science was almost religion. Most people didn’t believe in gods, and if they did, were in minority. So many things here, would call magic. But more I learn, more I find that is like science for you. Used like electricity was for us.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day.”

The two women sat in silence for a few more moments.

Asuka rose to her feet. “C’mon. That Genin Sensei is going to get tetchy if we keep watching his team train.”

Hanako was confused. “He can tell we’re here?”

“Yup. He’d better. To be a Genin Sensei you have to prove that you can keep a team of kids from getting themselves killed. Usually Jounin level is the requirement, but sometimes Chuunin make the cut as well. If he can’t sense your signature from this far away, then he’s not worth the title.” Asuka beckoned for Hanako to follow.

The path wound away from the river a little and branched back into the park area. It wasn’t a park in a true sense of the word. There were no playgrounds or manicured lawns, the grass was kept, and dead branches removed from trees, but the bushes grew as they wished and the paths were worn dirt. In the distance Hanako could see an obelisk of black stone that she knew contained the names of hundreds, if not thousands. A war memorial, not unlike those in Washington, D.C. If they were to continue down the branching path far enough, they would find the cemetery.

The two women followed the river.

“How was your experience with Wolf?” Asuka asked lightly.

“Weird,” Hanako responded immediately. “Guy never stop staring, like he was afraid to let me out of sight.” She roller her eyes. “I don’t know problem was.”

Asuka chuckled. “I thought as much when he took over from Cat.” That was a tendency the ANBU had, Hanako had noticed. They talked about their ANBU roles as if they were a different person. In some ways, it was true. “He’s an interesting one. His clan is an animal summons clan.”

“What does that mean?”

“An animal summon is a creature that has learned to use chakra in much the same way as shinobi do. A frog is just a frog, but a frog summons is as intelligent as you or me and can use chakra. Some wear clothes and take on behaviors similar to humans, while some are content with their more natural states. Summoning contracts, which allow you to summon an animal, are rare. Extremely rare, and it is difficult to win the respect of the summons to be allowed to sign the contract. Those are just individuals.” Lilac eyes glinted. “Which means that to sign an ancestral summons contract, his clan bound themselves to their summons, taking on characteristics of those summons, just as those summons take on characteristics of humans. Theirs just so happens to be dogs.”

Hanako hummed. “Is that why Wolf is so – weird?”

Asuka nodded. “Part of it. There are a few clans in Hidden Leaves, the Inuzuka for one, Aburame, and the – Hatake,” Hanako was perceptive enough to get what Asuka was trying to tell her by lingering on the last name. “These clans, though in different ways, take on the aspects of their summons and partners. The Inuzuka and Hatake both have dog summons, but the Inuzuka’s live and stay with them while the Hatake only sometimes do. Both are very protective of those they consider to be part of their pack; they take some adjustment to get used to new people.  The Inuzuka are usually a little more laid back, but the Hatake are particularly aggressive toward enemies. They’re the last ones you want to piss off. The White Fang – he’s a Hatake – won a lot of renown in the last war by tearing apart Stone and Sand’s forces.” Asuka trailed off at this.

The violet-haired woman stared off for a moment, lost in memory before she came out of it and continued. “He’s very protective of his pack, so a stranger coming in is somewhat of a threat to him. The other part is that, like most masks who get assigned to you, he’s wound pretty tight right now. We just came out of a war but that doesn’t mean that everything wound down. He’ll get used to you eventually, he’s usually quite sweet once he accepts someone.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Well then he’s vicious, and the scariest person you’ll ever meet. Except for maybe a couple of Shadow level shinobi out there.”

Hanako didn’t have anything to say to that and kept quiet. The explanation made sense of Wolf’s behavior if Hanako was following Asuka properly and he was from the Hatake clan. It did make her uncomfortable to think that ninja had summons. It made her think of witches and familiars, too much like magic for her tastes. The parallels were there. It did explain the people she’d seen who had what she could only explain as fangs walking with their dogs. In some cases, very large dogs. 

Asuka let the silence hang. Then, “Have you eaten yet?” Hanako replied that she had, but she could take some tea while Asuka ate. “Even better, they have coffee. Let’s go.”

True to her word, the restaurant had coffee and it was heaven. They also had some delicious pastries to go with it that offset the coffee just perfectly. A good distance from her home, closer to the administrative part of town, the shop had several shinobi clientele. Hanako still was startled at times by the abrupt actions they would sometime take, appearing and disappearing, or dropping down from the rooftops. It was more common in this section of town, as the houses were replaced by taller buildings, and the area was more densely packed. The topic of Wolf wasn’t brought up again, the two women just chatted about different things comfortably.

“What, exactly, is your business?” Asuka broached the topic at last.

“Accounting, its like money management without being a bank. I mostly give people advice as to what to do with their money,” Hanako replied. “If a client gives me the authority, I can also make small decisions for them, like sending pay-checks or paying their taxes. I try to get approval for that first.”

Asuka looked at her over the rim of her cup. “You get a lot of civilians coming to see you.”

Hanako blushed a little bit and scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, the charity cases. I feel bad for them. I don’t really make much money from them, if at all, but I feel really bad. Husband commits suicide and wife is now in charge of money, has no clue what they’re into or what is happening. Sometimes it is families of shinobi that have died and need to settle affairs. I refer to lawyer when I can, but sometimes they just need advice.”

“Word travels fast,” Asuka replied. “You’re honest and fair. You’re making a name for yourself. Some of the shinobi have even talked about seeing you for their finances. Keep it up and you might eventually have clans coming to you.”

Hanako may have been a foreigner, but even she knew what the clans meant by now. She waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I doubt that. Too much trouble, and they can find someone better.”

Asuka made a negative noise. “I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s a bit of a niche market. Good job security though, there’s not much competition for you to deal with.”

Hanako conceded to that. They chatted a little more before Asuka had to disappear off to somewhere and the two women said their goodbyes. She started out for home, finding some shops on the way, to purchase produce and supplies for the little house. She hadn’t been into Yamanaka Herbal Remedies in a while since there wasn’t much to do in the garden, but she still felt a temptation to go inside. Later, she promised herself.

By the time she got home, she realized that she hadn’t seen Bear at all since she had left. Eh, he was around somewhere. They always were. One of the things that had taken some adjustment was the feeling of never being alone, but always feeling lonely. Now that she was getting to know more people that feeling of loneliness was going away slowly, but it was still there a lot of the time. While she thought about her situation, she cleaned the house, sweeping and scrubbing floors clean of dirt, dusting shelves, and doing the general upkeep required of a house. By the time she was done it was late afternoon. The blonde congratulated herself on a job well done and went to go clean herself up before she enjoyed the rest of her day.


	8. Alone in the Dark

# Chapter 8:

# Alone in the Dark

__

* * *

_She said she told you she knows me, but the face isn't right. She asked if I recognized her and I told her I might_ _._

* * *

Almost as if an invisible beacon had been lit, and the armies of Rohan – ahem, Hidden Leaf – poured in as soon as Hanako had finished cleaning and stepped into the shower, she heard someone enter the house by the shouted ‘I’m home!’ from the living room. From her vulnerable position in the bathroom, in the process of suddsing up her hair with shampoo, the blonde could do absolutely nothing. She fretted for a minute about what she was going to do about the sudden houseguests and how quickly she could finish her shower before a wave of sudden stubbornness hit her. The blonde certainly didn’t invite this new houseguest. They certainly didn’t forewarn her that they were going to be here. They didn’t even knock, just let themselves. Right then and there, she decided to take one the longest, most luxurious showers that she had in weeks. She reached for a conditioning hair mask that she hadn’t used in a few weeks. It would take at least fifteen minutes to properly set. When that was in and she’d pulled her hair into a wet bun on the top of her head, she turned the water on low, took out a clay mask and applied it to her face. She then started focusing on exfoliating her skin before she pulled out a razor and set to the task of removing the hair from her legs. Once that was done, there was still time that the hair mask needed to set, so carefully pulling a towel around her, she exited the bathroom and found her nail care tools and took them back to the bathroom and set to the task of maintaining her nails, pushing the cuticles back and exfoliating the dead skin from her calluses.

The entire time she was doing this she could hear various noises from the living room. There was more than one shinobi in her house apparently; the sounds of someone running the kitchen sink, laughter, and the tell-tale clacking sounds of a shogi game being set up were also making their way through the walls and under the doorway. Her name was called several times, but she refused to answer.

Finally, she decided it was time to rinse her hair out and remove the clay mask. Once her hair was wrapped up in a towel, she spent more time on her nails and moisturizing her face before she actually got dressed. The sliding glass door from her bedroom to the backyard didn’t have the curtains pulled so she had plenty of natural light spilling in. The blonde dressed slowly, leisurely taking her time. Her hair next received a good work through with some moisturizing oils. All her skin, hair, and nails were buffed, shaved, moisturized, and pampered properly. Finally, when she didn’t feel like she could delay anymore she sighed heavily, braced herself, and opened the door to the living area.

Laughter greeted her as she came out, two shinobi were in the kitchen washing and chopping vegetables while another three crowded around the dining table playing shogi. One more sat on the couch reading a scroll.

“Hey, Hanako, hope you don’t mind that we let ourselves in,” Bird said from the kitchen. “It’s Tsuda’s birthday today,” he gestured to one of the shogi players. Tsuda waved at Hanako before making a move on the board. “And none of us have apartments big enough to all get together for dinner in,” Bird finished.

Hanako was a little annoyed but tried to not let it show. If she had known that there would be a group tonight, she probably wouldn’t have minded, but as it was there was no warning, they just let themselves in. She took a mental breath. She didn’t own the house. Technically she didn’t really have a say, she never even signed a lease. The ninja, under her terms of living in Hidden Leaves, were well within their rights to show up and there was nothing she could do about it. They probably didn’t even realize that she might not like it, the rules here were different than at home.

She opened her eyes. Several large bottles of sake and shot glasses caught her attention. “Big plans tonight?” She asked.

A hand slipped around her waist and she looked up to see Sparrow. “The biggest,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed and jokingly pushed him away. “Why don’t you join us?”

She hesitated to respond. “Come on, we know that you’re not working tomorrow,” Sparrow protested. “It’s Saturday and you never work Sundays.” He grinned, “We’ll keep you safe from the big bad ninjas.”

“Ninja? Where?!” Exclaimed Yamashiro from the couch, jumping to his feet comically with a knife out spinning in several directions. They all laughed.

The blonde was tempted. Very tempted. “I’ll – I will think about it,” she conceded.

“That’s almost a yes,” Sparrow said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Bear will have nothing to worry about.”

“Yes,” Bear said, appearing behind Bird. “Because you are the safest people in Hidden Leaves that I could possibly trust my protection client to,” the sarcasm dripped from his voice. “It’s not as though I’ve been assigned to protect anyone from harm, physical or otherwise.”

“Hey! She’d be perfectly safe with me,” Bird returned in a mock scandalized tone.

“Physically, maybe. Mentally she’d be scarred for life,” Bear replied sassily.

“That’s right, Kenta, we can’t have you scarring the poor little civilians,” Itsuo jested.

“Besides, we’re headed to the Drunken Samurai later tonight.”

 

* * *

**Narrator: They didn’t.**

* * *

Bull joined them a little before the plates were set out, still dusty from being on duty. He was promptly sent into second bathroom to clean up by Hanako, who proclaimed that he was too filthy to eat at the table with them. An extra chair was pulled up from the patio to accommodate the extra guests.

Dinner, a delicious affair which included delicious chicken skewers, grilled mackerel, a miso soup, rice balls, and tuna rolls, with pickles, salami, cheese, and crackers on the side, curtesy of Hanako. She helped make what she could, but she wasn’t very good at cooking Fire Country dishes besides a good stir fry, so the charcuterie was her contribution. Conversation was loud and lively, mostly the shinobi jesting at one another and making inside jokes. Some of them flew over Hanako’s head, but she laughed along, nonetheless.

Then, mid-dinner, the shots of sake started with shouts of ‘kanpai,’ and it started going downhill from there. Bear, prude that he was, declined to take part. Although he was probably the most responsible of them all, seeing as he was on duty. A few more shinobi joined them. Hanako didn’t take part in too many of the shots, opting to stay with her glass of wine instead, which she refilled at least twice, sharing the bottle with two kunoichi who showed up. Tsuda had taken one look at their glasses of white wine and rose and proclaimed them to be ‘girly as fuck’ and insisted they all take a shot.  Mid-way through the evening Hanako was tipsy as hell and she knew it. As she sipped her water, she watched the shinobi pound down more shots of sake. She didn’t understand how in the hell they were still standing. She had barely drunk anything in comparison to the shinobi, the kunoichi included, and they were all still acting like it barely affected them. Unless it really was acting. She wouldn’t put it past them.

She spied Bear in the corner of the room watching the events unfold like a disappointed dad with his arms crossed. Better judgement somewhat impaired, she went over to him.

“What’s deal with this?” she said, gesturing to the room. The strategy games had mostly been abandoned in favor of cards so that more people could play, and the sake was still being consumed. An old radio had been turned on in the corner, softly playing its tunes. Shinobi had sensitive hearing and too loud of music bothered them.

Bear didn’t even turn to look at her. “Deal with what, exactly? Be specific.”

“Drinking,” she gestured again. “Is unfair. I have had so little and am _tipsii_ , and them, are like fish.”

“Fish?” Bear’s tone turned amused.

“Yes! Fish!” Hanako took another drink of her water. “Drink sake like fish swimming, but no _tipsii_. They fine! Not fair,” she ended crossly, as if the world was rendered broken by this injustice. 

“Shinobi can use their chakra to metabolize alcohol more quickly than civilians can, if we so choose,” Bear explained. “But you, Yamada-san, cannot, and are drunk. I recommend that you sit down and drink only water for the rest of this evening.”

“Bah, I’m fine. Look, water,” she gestured to her cup. Bear only inclined his head in response. The blonde huffed at him before making her way over to the couch. He had a point, she did feel more drunk than she had in a long, long time. She actually hadn’t drank like this since she’d been on Terra. The card game going on looked like a variation of Texas Hold ’Em, a game she had never been any good at even when she tried to learn in college. She watched for a few minutes before she got bored and went outside.

The night was crisp and clear, the air quite cold but refreshing. Once the door was closed, the noises from inside could still be heard but it was much more subdued. Since there were no outdoor lights, not really a concept in Hidden Leaves, she fished around for the matches she knew were on the patio table before she found them and lit a cluster of candles she kept out on the table for that specific purpose. A firepit would really be a nice addition to the place, she thought to herself. Once the candles were lit, she dipped into her bedroom and brought out a blanket to wrap herself in against the cold. It peaceful. The sounds of the city were still there, the night sounds of the river, the random hoots of owls, dogs barking in the distance, the murmur of shouts from various people. But there was no roar of cars. That near-constant background hum that had been taken for granted for as long as she had lived in cities. Sure, there was the city bustle of people’s voices echoing faintly, but the loud hum that had always been there no matter the time of day was now gone. The blonde had the sudden urge to walk along the river, but wrestled it down, recognizing it as a stupid-ass idea considering her state of inebriation.

“You’ll catch a cold out here like this,” a voice surprised the blonde and caused her to jump. Her water threatened to spill over the edges of the glass.

_“Fuhk”_ , she breathed out. “Don’t do – that,” she struggled to remember the right word.

Bull took a step out of the shadows and into the candlelight. “This isn’t an excuse for a fire, and that blanket isn’t warm enough to protect against the chill.”

Well, she did have a ninja here, and they were capable of the impossible… “We do fire?” She ventured.

 

* * *

 

A few minutes and a half-drunken explanation later, Hanako was digging a hole in the ground around where she had been envisioning her fire pit would go. Well, trying. She was making a valiant effort at digging a hole in the ground.

“Are you sure about this, Hanako?” Bull asked her while he searched around for fuel.

“Yes,” she replied. “I want to do for long time. Good fire for night.”

“You’re not making much sense, honey,” Bull called back. They had decided he would search for firewood while she figured out where the firepit would go. And by ‘they’, Bull had insisted that Hanako would probably trip in the dark and break her neck in her current state, so he would get the firewood. As for himself, he was also drunk from the shots that Tsuda had insisted on, not that he would let it show.

_“Gohddamm’it, ah sahd ah want ai fuhking fihr pit for ze fuhking yahrd_ ,” he heard. Bear couldn’t help laughing despite himself. Hanako had given up on trying to speak in the Blaze dialect and resorted to her native tongue. He heard more muttering in her strange fluid tongue as he picked up more dead sticks from beyond the boundaries of the property. He fully planned on digging the pit as well but also letting her pick the spot. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up the placement of a giant hole in the ground of her precious lawn. This way, she would be the one responsible if they fucked it up.

When Tsuda invited him to his birthday celebrations, he expected it to be at the Drunken Samurai, as was tradition. When it was moved to Yamada House, as they were starting to call the residence, Bull was a little apprehensive. Tsuda was the type to intrude on others’ spaces and not really think much of it, and it wasn’t like the civilian was in a place to refuse them. When he arrived, based on the snappy way she told him to clean up all the dirt he brought with him from his mission, Bull guessed that was the case. At least the shampoo in the bathroom was a non-scented one. Usually one of the Masks on guard would refill the bathroom supplies whenever necessary.

The little civilian was the drunkest Bull had ever seen. Not that he had seen her drunk before, but she was pretty out of it, so when she left the card game and didn’t come back, he was the first to go see how she was doing outside. Bear, as much as that Hyuuga bastard insisted on following things by the book, was the type that wouldn’t interfere until she did something stupid to hurt herself. Until then he would perch wherever he chose and just watch from through the walls.

Once the appropriate amount of wood for a good-sized bonfire was gathered, he returned to the dimly lit yard where Hanako was struggling with the shovel. If he was honest, it was the saddest hole he had ever seen. An academy student could have done better. Although, on second thought, considering how drunk she was, it wasn’t too bad.

“Hanako, hand me the shovel.”

“ _Ah goddit_ ,” she replied testily as she tried to drive the shovel into the ground, stomping with her foot and nearly missing. That would have been a bad bruise to the arch of the foot if she had glanced it.

Bull had to stop himself from laughing and pretended to put on a stern face and took the shovel from the little drunk. Within a few minutes he had a fire pit dug that wouldn’t be in danger of throwing sparks on to the grass and starting a fire they didn’t want. Ten seconds and a fireball jutsu later, it was crackling and sending light and heat into the world. His shoulders relaxed even further.

There was a soft impact to his side and arms wrapped around his middle. He tensed reflexively. “Thanks, Bull,” Hanako murmured.

“You can call me Tetsuo,” he murmured. His arm came down around Hanako, warmth filling his chest. It was hard to get Hanako to come out of her shell. This had to be the most open he had literally ever seen her. He knew it would only last until she sobered up, and then she would be back to the cautious reserved person she usually was. While she wasn’t as expressive as civilians usually were, she also wasn’t as hard to read as a trained shinobi was. It was easy to tell that the woman wasn’t entirely happy most of the time, though it was better than it used to be. She was also often guarded around her custodians, which was almost all of the time. All things considered, she was pulling through much better than most would with a hidden core keeping it together.

Tetsuo had gotten a little worried when the White Fang was assigned a R&R rotation with Hanako. The White Fang had just gotten back from a series of especially nasty missions and was on edge. Enough so that Tetsuo and Yamashiro had taken it upon themselves make sure that she felt secure the first day with him. Not that they were worried that Hatake would do anything to her, but Hatake wasn’t exactly the best around civilians on a good day, and they didn’t need her to become terrified of shinobi in general. Since the field of calming chakra that Hanako put out disappeared whenever she was stressed—well, they were really doing it for their own selfish reasons.

 

And selfish they were; the house had become a refuge for ANBU outside of headquarters where they didn’t have to pretend to be something they weren’t. Outside hidden villages, shinobi were a myth. A phantom that people knew existed but didn’t think about because they never saw them. Inside the hidden villages, most civilians didn’t understand the true full extent of what shinobi could do and became terrified when the realized that their entire perception of reality could be controlled by a shinobi of sufficient ability. They tended to romanticize shinobi and make up their own version of how their darker aspects functioned. Even shinobi who had civilian partners and came from civilian backgrounds tended to keep those facts from their loved ones. Hanako, however, was a different case. Her appearance had led to an immediate stay with T&I and all of the tender advances the Butchers had to offer, and the Yamanaka Mindwalkers after that. Her ignorance of anything shinobi meant that she had no baseline to compare to, so even techniques as extreme as mindwalking became commonplace as just another fact of her new home. Most civilians, when they realized that a henge meant that the person they came know might actually be an imposter – well it wasn’t usually good for relationships, romantic or otherwise. Hell, it was a classified secret that mind techniques even existed, known only to Yamanaka teammates and Jounin-level nin; the official story was that the clan was one of intelligence gatherers.

Yamada House had become a place where they could relax. A harmless civilian who had gone through the most extreme vetting process Hidden Leaves had to offer, surrounded by the soothing chakra that she emitted, and the only visitors were their comrades-in-arms and allies. No spies, no enemies, no threats. It was safe, safer than some of their homes. The residual chakra meant that even when she wasn’t there, the home and the gardens surrounding it still had a calming effect. It became a place to be protected by ANBU, a precious secret tucked away in the outlying districts of Hidden Leaves.

When Hanako had started her business, there were a few who worried that it might become a problem. They worried that she might want to travel, and the denial of that freedom would upset the order that had been established between the civilian and her handlers. Hanako wasn’t allowed to leave the village without direct permission from the Lord Fire Shadow. Her papers had a Village Asset ID number instead of a Citizen ID number. Even her office was controlled by ANBU. They owned the building that she was renting from and were the reason that the price was low enough that she would select the office space she did without arousing suspicion. Almost every facet of her life was manipulated in some way by ANBU so that they could continue utilizing the resource she provided. Hell, they even went through her files to see what her clients were up to. Tetsuo didn’t feel bad about any of that, it was just a reality of life in a Hidden Village. It was the price exacted for the safety the village gave, for the security provided.

But there were times like this, when Tetsuo could see the naked sorrow on Hanako’s face, the longing for a life long past, that he did feel sympathy. He wouldn’t be a shinobi if he couldn’t compartmentalize his feelings and carry on regardless.

Hanako sat on the grass, legs pressed against her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Like a cat purring in contentment, the chakra field emitted intensified and Tetsuo felt himself relaxing. The cracking and snapping were the only sounds from the backyard for a while. They sat in a comfortable silence.

After a while, Hanako stood. Tetsuo looked at her in askance.

“Too sober, need drink,” she replied, holding up her now empty water glass in response.

 

* * *

 

 “Ready to become a fish, Little One?” Bear quipped when Hanako returned to fill a wine glass. The celebration inside had only gotten louder, and more shinobi had arrived. Several of them Hanako had a niggling feeling that she knew which Masks they were or could closely guess. Others were not known to her.

“River calls me,” she replied with sarcasm as she poured.

“Well don’t dive straight in,” he responded. Hanako made a sound at him that sounded like a hrmph, raised her glass to him, and then wove back through the crowd to the door.

“Hanako!” Bird, whom Hanako mentally renames to Kenta, exclaimed when she tried to brush past him. “Where have you been? You’re missing all the fun.”

Hanako smiled back. “We made fire in yard, just enjoying.” She gestured to the back door where she was trying to escape to. “Was little much people here,” the blonde explained.

Kenta looked at her appraisingly but let her go with a laugh and pat on the shoulder.

Outside the fire cast a beautiful orange glow on everything. The trees framing the backdrop between them and the river looked picturesque. Hanako sat back down next to Tetsuo. Their shoulders were almost touching.

“What is favorite thing about Hidden Leaves?” Hanako asked after a moment.

Tetsuo considered for a moment. “My comrades. They’d do anything for this, for me. I’d do the same for them.”

Hanako searched his face. There was no falsehood.

“The sun off mountainside in morning,” she replied.

“Huh?”

“My favorite thing,” the blonde clarified. “My favorite thing about Hidden Leaves is way sun rises in morning. Shines first on mountain, mist is on river, very peaceful.” She was honest. Over time she was coming to appreciate the beauty of the village, to enjoy its quiet mornings even if she didn’t like its winter weather. She was also coming to terms with the fact that she would likely never return home and that she had to embrace this one as best as she could. She remembers her own home and feels the pinpricks of tears in the corners of her eyes. She won’t cry. No, not now. Not in front of someone else, much less a shinobi.

“Hanako,” Testsuo said softly, catching her attention. His eyes gaze back at her, steady. She traces the scar on his face, with her eyes, wondering how he got it. She decides that she really doesn’t want to know. “Hanako, it’s alright,” Tetsuo says.

Tetsuo’s hand cups her face, brushing against her skin with his rough calluses. As soon as he does, she has a sudden spark of realization. She closed her eyes and can feel the warmth of his breath on her face, when she opens them, he is so much closer. Before she can think better of it, she leans forward and closes the gap between them.

The first kiss is tender and soft, hesitant. The second is much more aggressive and filled with longing. Tetsuo’s hand winds through her hair and he pulls her closer. He smells of woodsmoke, oil and steel, and a smell she would almost describe as gunpowder but not quite. She traces her hand along his cheek, stubble brushing against her fingertips. Warmth pooled in her stomach, her heartbeat was in her ears. When he pulls back, Hanako knows that her cheeks look rosy from the heat in them, and she’s breathing hard. She realizes how long it has been since she’s been with someone. Over a year. Most of that time here. Somewhere in the back of her mind there is a voice screaming at her to not do it, that he can’t be trusted. Hanako silences the voice with little effort. She wants so desperately to give in, and she can see that Tetsuo feels the same.

They kiss again, languidly this time, less hurried and rushed. His hair is silky between her fingers. She traces his jawline with her lips and down his neck, breathing in more of his scent. His fingers trace her neck and the line of her shoulder coming down to –

He freezes and breaks apart from her. A split second later the door to the house slides open.

“Hanako? Tetsuo? You out here?” Kenta can see them but pretends to not immediately spot them so that they have a moment gather themselves. The fire is dying but there is still enough light for a shinobi to see well.

“Over here, Kenta,” Hanako replies.

“Come back inside you two, we’re starting another game of Lightening Shinobi Bluff. Hanako, I’ll teach you how to play if you want me to.”

When Hanako doesn’t immediately respond, Tetsuo accedes in her place, saying that it’s a good idea, and he uses the shovel to cover the coals with dirt before they return inside.

Hanako watches instead of playing the poker game, her mind is still stuck on what had just occurred. She was distracted for the rest of the night.


	9. Begin at the Top

#  **Chapter 9:**

#  **_Begin at the Top_ **

 

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* * *

_Change your mind, ‘cause I wasn't thinking right. We can begin at the top. Am I waking you up?_

* * *

 

‘I should never have dug that damned hole,’ Hanako thought to herself, glaring over the rim of a mug of tea at the divot in her backyard. It had been three months since that damned thing had appeared in her yard. Ah, appeared was not the right word. Summoned. Summoned by her own hand in a drunken haze when she thought that putting an unplanned hole in the middle of the fucking yard in the middle of the night was a good idea. Spoiler alert, it was not.

So, here she was, months later, still staring down a hole in her backyard trying to decide how she wanted to proceed. At this point, it would almost make sense to enlarge it and line it with large river stones. Then, there would need to be a way to ensure that when it rained it wouldn’t flood, that way it could still be used. Then, she would need to get something to sit on around it; somewhere for lawn chairs –

The blonde pulled herself out of her thoughts. She needed to figure out a lot more than how to get the hole in her yard fixed. Maybe she’d just plant a rosebush or a tree there. Oooh, maybe a bougainvillea she’d seen some time earlier at the Yamanaka Clan’s shop –

‘Stop that, Hanako.’

The rainy season seemed to be passing on; it still rained periodically but it wasn’t the constant overcast and misty weather that it had been during winter. The weather was also getting warmer, a coat wasn’t as necessary every day as it had been. During the nights, yes, but not every day.

The blonde went back inside to refill her tea before she took a brief stroll down the river. It was early still, and she had maybe half an hour before she had to get ready for work. As usual there was mist rising from the water in the early dawn. She was starting to get a normal morning walk routine going now that the weather wasn’t so god-awful miserable. Periodically she saw other people on her walks, but she’d built up a nice little circuit close to her home and not a lot of people were around there, especially that time of morning. On the way she looked for any trash to clean up as she normally did. The first few times there was a fair bit of trash to clean up. It seemed that littering was a human affliction that transcended dimensions. Now though she had gotten quite a bit of it and it was only occasional bits and pieces here and there to pick up.

Once she hit her halfway mark she turned back, still thinking and sipping tea, although the mug was almost done. The Haruno siblings whose work she’d taken on was coming along. It would be only three or so months until the elder sibling, Satoko, would come of age. While they had gone through with the shell company idea, and so far, it was working; the elder Haruno had also taken Hanako’s advice and hired a shinobi to keep an eye on the uncle. Mostly with the instruction to distract him in various ways if he came close to uncovering where the money was and prevent him from taking it if he ever did. Of course, the shinobi was also being paid out of that fund, so they had an additional incentive to keep the man off the trail. Hanako met with the young woman bi-weekly so that they could keep track of where everything was. A few weeks before a higher up Haruno clan member had finally arrived all the way from Iron country to take care of the situation. Satoko had been very excited during their last meeting, waves had already been made.

To say that Hanako was interested in what would happen to the man was an understatement. In much of Fire Country, justice was administered outside of a court system that, by Terra standards, wasn’t justice at all but vigilantism. Here, courts only stepped in if large amounts of money or nobles were involved. Past that, it was largely up to the people to enforce their own brand of justice; whether that involved hiring shinobi to dispense it when they were unable or doing it themselves depended on the parties involved. Hidden Leaves was a bit of a novelty in that the village had its own police department that focused on enforcing the Fire Shadow’s Justice within its walls. As far as the blonde could tell, they weren’t unjust or corrupt; no one that she had spoken had grumbled about them or spoken in hushed hurried tones about the enforcers for fear of being overheard. She’d heard no grumblings of unfair seizures and searches without cause. They were in a shinobi village though, and it was entirely possible that there were unfair searches and seizures, but the shinobi were skilled enough to do without the civilians knowing.

The clan system within Hidden Leaves was an interesting one. From the history books she had read about the villages’ founding, most of the shinobi villages, known as hidden villages, happened because of two or more shinobi clans came together to pool their resources. Hidden Leaves was the first and the largest village upon founding. Not only had the Uchiha and Senju come together to create it, but also their respective allies. Other clans had then joined in later at different points. The most prominent clans and political factions, though, were usually the founding groups. Within Hidden Leaves, there were some 14 major clans, and the rest were more prominent families or recently joined clans. The power fell along the lines of 3 political factions, each headed by the Senju, Uchiha, and Hyuuga, respectively. The other clans would fall in and out of line on these depending on the issues, but the those were the top three clans. Of course, all had been founding clans of Hidden Leaves.

Each district in Hidden Leaves, roughly, had one of the 14 clans in them. Since Hanako lived on the edge of two districts, her home fell on the border between the Inuzuka and Nara Districts. Technically she was closer to Nara, but for her purposes it didn’t matter. Her workplace, on the other hand, lay in the Yamanaka District. Really, the districts were defined as the areas each clan took responsibility of protection and evacuation of civilians in case of an invasion. While they had numbers, people referred to them by the clan names.

Hanako’s house came back into view. She left her outside shoes on the porch when she entered the house. There was a light-haired shinobi laying asleep on the couch covered in one of her fluffy blankets who had arrived sometime in the middle of the night. She took care to be quiet, but she had an inkling that he had awoken the moment she opened the door. She rinsed her cup as quietly as she could before retreating to her bedroom to get ready for the day. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reentered the living area, ready for work, to see the shinobi sitting at the dining table, a bowls of rice, natto, pickles, and a few other things she couldn’t see laid out in front of him.

He looked absolutely exhausted with large bags underneath his bloodshot eyes and was rather pale. Hanako fought the urge to put her hand to his forehead to see if he was running a temperature. She didn’t know Yamanaka Inotashi very well and she knew that was too much. Unless it was initiated first, she tried not to get into shinobi’s personal spaces.

“Are you alright?” She asked him. “Do you need any medicine? Should I pick something up at the market?” She placed her purse on a chair while she poured water into the teapot which had just started to whistle.

Inotashi flinched at the sound of the kettle. “No. S’just chakra exhaustion,” he mumbled before yawning. “Just gotta eat a lot and sleep ‘till my reserves are back to normal.” Hanako didn’t follow what he meant about reserves and filling them up, but she got the impression that he was spent but not sick.

“Well, you look like you’re sick. Here,” she said, placing the tea within easy reach of him and a tea cup as well. “Drink lots of tea, eat plenty, and rest up. I’m not sure if anyone is using the second bedroom right now but you’re welcome to it if it’s free.” Inotashi just nodded in response. She wanted so bad to ruffle his hair, but it was far too familiar an action to do to a ninja that hadn’t given permission to be touched. “I’ll be back around six, if you’re still here I’ll be sure to make a big dinner. There should be some leftovers and fruit for lunch.” She grabbed the lunch box she’d made the previous night for her own lunch and slipped it into her bag.

With a final command to rest and a lazy wave from the Yamanaka, she left the house, locking the door behind her out of habit. Ninja didn’t care about locks, other people did. The blonde had also seen first-hand how many shinobi her locks stopped. Spoiler alert, it was zero.

The village was coming to life. She stopped at a few shops along the way for more tea leaves and some snacks for herself. Recently she had become addicted to chocolate filled wafer sticks and there was this one small bakery that made them well enough for her to consume by the dozen. Hanako made small talk in her limited Blaze Dialect with the kindly old woman who ran the bakery with her husband.

Hanako’s official cover story was that she was from the Land of Steel, and had come to Fire Country with her father, who was a merchant. They had been attacked and he had died from his injuries after, but not before sending her on to their destination of Hidden Leaves, where he was supposed to carry out his business. Because he was now dead, the deal fell through, and there was no money for her to make her way home. For now, she was using her skills as an accountant to make a living until she could save enough to return home. Of course, the unsaid implication of that story was that her home was far enough away that she would never be able to save the money necessary and would probably end up settling down in Hidden Leaves for good. Once the bakery owners had heard about her story, the wife, Hana, had started to grill her about the foods from her home country. Hanako had done her best to explain to Hana how cakes and pies were made, drawing on her memory of making the desserts herself for holidays with her family. While Hana wasn’t making them in mass yet, she was practicing the ‘exotic’ new pastries with Hanako and a few of the regulars as test subjects. The bakery was a little more expensive than several others around, but Hana was the reason Hanako regularly came by to buy her bread and snacks.

Once she left the bakery with a bag of the wafer sticks of deliciousness, she continued on her way. More people were out and about earlier as the weather got better. She had to stop abruptly several times as schoolchildren ran by not looking where they were going. Most of them were wearing the athletic apparel that she recognized to indicate shinobi or shinobi in training. A few of them had dogs trailing after them that were obviously not strays.

Actually, now that she thought about it, the blonde had not seen any strays in Hidden Leaves. Cats occasionally, but no stray dogs. The few dogs she had seen usually had collars or Kevlar vests on that reminded her of the vests people would put on hunting dogs back home, except these weren’t bright orange. Also, most, if not all of the dog breeds she had seen were very obviously hunting or working breeds. She had seen no designer dogs, or small breeds that weren’t terriers. Even the few German Shepherds she’d seen looked closer to a Belgian Malinois, without the characteristic back curve of a German Shepherd, or possibly the disfigurement had never been bred into them here in the first place.

The office was much the same, a little warmer than it had been since the weather wasn’t quite as bitterly cold and the radiator was having an easier time keeping up. Now she kept a scarf handy for when she got chilled but wasn’t wearing a heavy shawl as often as she had been in previous months. As per usual, whoever was keeping watch this week was out of sight, in fact she hadn’t seen them at all for the past several weeks. If she hadn’t been around shinobi so much, she might have guessed that they were finally leaving her alone traverse the village by herself. She’d seen enough of them spring from nowhere that she knew that she’d never see them if they didn’t want her to.

Shuffling through a stack of papers, Hanako really felt the loss of Excel. Everything she did was now in pencil until she was certain it was correct for the official copies. She had a typewriter which operated somewhat like a keyboard, but one mistake and she needed a new copy. Most calculations were done by hand and she had multiple drafts. She’d also gotten in the habit of burning incorrect drafts instead of trashing them. Information security wasn’t a huge priority to people here, but she had no clue if there would be anyone rifling through her trash to try and steal her clients’ secrets.

Finding the right paper, she got to work for the day.

 

* * *

 

Sarutobi Hiruzen, Third Fire Shadow of Hidden Leaves, was tired. He was in his early 40’s, a rather respectable age for a shinobi. He had raised a genin team, several children, and now his genin had genin. Most didn’t live to see their thirties, and of those, few lived longer, like the Uchiha Elders Madara and Izuna who were in their early 70s. The pair were legendary greybeards in the shinobi world. Hiruzen was convinced that Izuna stayed alive because he refused to die before his elder brother, and Madara, well, he sustained himself on a steady diet of antagonism and pure spite. His heart kept beating because he knew it would inconvenience those around him. Old bastard.

Moreover, Hiruzen was tired from running a village and sending those he had come to see as his sons and daughters off to die. And now one of those that he had sent off time and time again and survived those orders, was now requesting to leave.

Senju Tsunade stood before his desk, her eyes tired and heart broken. If she had been any other, her request would have been unthinkable. Treasonous, even.

“I can’t do this anymore, Sensei,” she had said. Hiruzen had known about her struggles, the nightmares that she had after the war, and the fear she had developed of blood. She’d even reduced her role at the hospital to more of an administrative one. But this, this was unexpected.

“Tsunade-chan, are you sure this is what you want?” If it had been any other, he would have immediately refused. Even Orochimaru and Jiraiya he would have refused.

But this was one of his beloved daughters. She may have been a student, but she was more of a daughter to him than his own future children might ever be, if he and Biwako have any more children after Asuma.

“I’m useless here, Sensei,” she replied with a broken heart. “I can’t work anymore. I – Every time I try to work, all I can see is Dan in my arms again, and I’m frozen. I can’t sleep at night anymore, I see him there in the corner of my eye and when I turn to look, he isn’t there. There are enough in the hospital that I’ve trained to replace me, but like this – I’m a liability, Sensei”

Every word hit him like a hammer driving a nail home. Tsunade had been destroyed by the death of her fiancé. The pair had told few of their engagement; Hiruzen knew because he was Tsunade’s Sensei. They were to announce it after the war was over, but before it could finish, Dan passed.

Hiruzen said nothing.

“A leave of absence, Sensei,” Tsunade pressed desperately.

Hiruzen still said nothing, contemplating. This was his daughter in all but name.

“Jiraiya-kun is creating a network,” he said at last. Tsunade breathed a soundless sigh of relief. “You’ll work with him, gathering information.” He looked her in the eye. “Officially, you’ll be on a leave of absence, but unofficially, you’ll work with him in his network. We’ll keep this one off the records,” he pronounced.

“Oh, Sensei,” Tsunade breathed out, tears springing to her eyes. Hiruzen stepped out from behind the large desk and she quickly rushed to him. He wrapped his arms around his eldest student. “I lost the baby,” she whispered mournfully. “I don’t know that I can take any more.”

Hiruzen held his daughter while she cried into his chest, her sobs shaking her body. They stood for a while before she calmed enough and Tsunade moved to break free.

“Will you go alone?” He asked, pretending that her moment of weakness had never occurred.

Tsunade composed herself, wiped her eyes and cleared her voice. “With your permission, I would take Shizune-chan with me,” the blonde replied. “She has real talent and potential, but she needs training still. I can work around this obstacle with one student and enough time.”

Hiruzen nodded. “I’ll draw up the paperwork,” he said, dismissing his student.

Just before she reached the door he added, “Tsunade-chan,” she stopped to listen. “You’re always welcome home, no matter what.” She smiled gratefully before leaving.

Hiruzen sighed once he was left alone. Tsunade was always the strongest of his students, but in some ways, the most fragile. The war had piled so much on her, Nawaki, Dan, and now her child, that she could take no more. He understood her unsaid plea. If she did not go, she wasn’t sure that she would not take her own life, and for a shinobi, to take their own life while not in service to the village was an eternal everlasting shame that could never be redeemed.

 

* * *

 

 The shinobi portion of the village was in a hubbub. Senju Tsunade, granddaughter of the First Fire Shadow and student of the Third Fire Shadow, was leaving Hidden Leaves. Two of the three Legendary Three would be out of the village. Most rumors were that Tsunade was going on a mission like Jiraiya, while those who had closer ties to the hospital suspected that she was running away. Orochimaru would be the last of the three left in the village.

Hanako was quite unfamiliar with who the Legendary Three were, exactly, but she took that they were important. The middle-aged man that she bought produce was telling anyone who would listen about it.

“I saw her, I did,” he’d said breathlessly between measuring weights of beans. “She left through the main gates this morning when I was coming in with my latest crop. Had that little Kato girl with her as well, packs on their backs.”

“Why do you think she’s leaving?” Asked a dark-haired woman to Hanako’s left.

“Beats me,” the man replied. “But if you ask me,” he started even though no one had asked.

Hanako listened in idly on their chatter. She didn’t quite trust rumors, but the departure of this ‘Tsunade-hime’ seemed to be a big deal, even among civilians.

“Who _are_ the Legendary Three?” She finally asked.

The dark-haired woman started. “Oh, dear, I had forgotten that you’re foreign and wouldn’t know. The Legendary Three Ninja are the Lord Fire Shadow’s own team! He brought them up from a genin level and now they are all jounin. They were the only survivors in a battle against Hanzo of the Salamander, he’s the Rain Shadow.”

“Named for being only survivors?” Hanako questioned.

“Oh yes, dear,” the woman said as she picked out more produce and handed it to the vegetable stand vendor. “No one survives battles with Hanzo of the Salamander. He’s as feared as our own Lord Fire Shadow or Onoki of the Hidden Stone.” She then turned to join the vegetable stand vendor in more speculation as to why Tsunade would have left.

The blonde quickly brushed off thoughts of Tsunade. She didn’t even know who the woman was. Some kind of doctor, apparently. She gathered the rest of her groceries and paid for them.

The rest of the way home she overheard snippets of conversation here and there about the woman. When she reached her little home and passed the flower beds, she started making plans as to what she would do with the front gardens for the spring. Several bulbs were starting to sprout which would turn into beautiful irises and tulips. The lights in the house were off. The blonde unlocked the door and stepped through only to let out a high-pitched scream when she was abruptly and violently jerked backwards, and three knives appeared sunken into the open door in a vertical line right where her center of mass would have been.

She awkwardly and ungracefully landed on her butt, hard. Inside the house through the open door she saw a few dark blurs flashing back and forth and heard the clash of metal on metal. “Stay back, Yamada-san!” She heard yelled back at her. Hanako would have stayed back even if the command hadn’t been yelled at her. She was frozen on the ground in shock. Another clang of metal and the sounds of porcelain crashing to the floor jolted her out of her daze and she scrambled backwards before pulling herself to her feet and fleeing toward the more populated part of town and safety.

Heart pounding in her ears, she had at least enough sense to walk once she got to where people were. If someone was after her, it would be much easier for them to find her if she was the only one running. Watching Jason Bourne movies had taught her that much. It was about all she could do stay calm. She ran through potential places to go while she walked and couldn’t come up with anything. Police station? Shops? Her office? She didn’t exactly have any friends whose places she could go to. Eventually she decided on the office; it was the most obvious but the only one thing she could think of at the time. Hopefully, it would be the most obvious, so the first option discarded.

Old Mr. Saito stopped her almost immediately when she burst inside the building. “Yamada-san, what’s wrong?” He said, shuffling over to her.

She was incoherent for a moment, her words coming out as a mixture of English and Blaze Dialect while she tried to get out what had just happened. “Attacked, at home – Shinobi fighting inside, I ran here. Don’t know where to go,” she finally stammered, repeating herself a few times to be understood properly through her accent, ready to burst into tears. Old Mr. Saito looked her over before ushering her over to his office.

“Here,” he said kindly, showing her to the break room for the building staff and pressing a cup of tea into her hands. “I need you to calm down, Yamada-san. You’re broadcasting your chakra like a beacon.”

“Broadcasting chakra, I don’t understand,” she replied. Her hands were still shaking but she was getting her breathing under control.

“Breathe, Yamada-san, breathe,” Saito said commandingly before seizing her hands in his. She felt a buzzing, almost electrical connection between their hands that sent a chill racing up her arms like adrenaline. “You feel that?” He asked roughly, and she nodded. “Good, try to pulse your chakra along with it,” he said, and the buzzing became more intense before lessening. Strangely, through the buzzing, she started to become aware of the same cool energy running through herself. It felt like the cold spike of adrenaline rushing through her veins. With some coaxing and instruction from Saito, she managed to get her own buzzing to follow along with his minutely. It felt like trying to force an involuntary chill that ran down her spine to stop.

“Good, good,” he said when she managed to make a weak pulse back. “That’s already better. You’re not spiking your chakra so intensely anymore.” He stood back up stiffly, and she felt bad. His back obviously pained him, but he had just spent some ten minutes kneeling with her to help her calm down.

“What is this?” She finally asked. Still trying to pulse her chakra like he had showed.

“It’s a basic chakra manipulation exercise for children. I’m surprised you’re even able to touch yours since you’re a civilian, but when you came in so panicked broadcasting it like that, I thought I might try.” Saito poured himself a cup of tea and refilled Hanako’s while he was at it.

Hanako took a good second look at the old man. He had scars littering his hands and a few faded ones his face as well that she had previously thought were just wrinkles and age marks. “You’re ninja,” she said in realization.

“Yes, young lady,” he replied. “Retired. I was just a young man when the village was founded.” He changed the subject. “So, tell me what you saw that had you in such a panic.”

 Much more clearly this time, Hanako relayed what had happened.

“Ah,” he said in understanding. “I’m sure your ANBU has things well in hand,” he said once she had told him what happened. “It’s good you came here, this is one of the first places they’ll look when they try to recover you.”

Hanako was surprised. “You know about –“

“About the ANBU, of course,” he cut her off. “I’m retired, not senile. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you pick a few things up,” Saito said, winking at her.

Hanako was reminded intensely of her late grandfather. Saito had a sense of humor that matched him. “I didn’t know that others realized they were around,” she breathed out in relief.

“Considering what your chakra feels like, the fact that you’re not in a lab being dissected,” Saito said, “As well as your guards, that means that you’ve been classified as an asset.”

“Dissected?” Hanako said in alarm.

Saito huffed a chuckle. “Heh, maybe a lab would be too much.” He waved a hand as if to brush her concerns away. “You’ve got a guard detail, and they won’t be happy when they can’t find you.”

“You’re not concerned about who was in house?” Hanako questioned in surprise. 

The older man shook his head. “There haven’t been any alarms sounded, you’re still here instead of dead or stuffed into an ANBU hidey-hole; it’s probably just a regular intruder and not an enemy agent. You don’t have any secret admirers that would try rifling through your panty drawers, do you?”

Hanako had to laugh at that one. “Not that I know, no.” The more she thought about it the more she laughed. The ridiculousness of it calmed her nerves some. “I don’t know what I would do if had one.” She chuckled and then groaned. “What am I doing?” She questioned, putting her head in her hands before taking a deep breath.

“There, sweetheart,” Saito said kindly. “You can stay here while you wait for your guard to come collect you. I won’t let anyone else try to take you.” He had a quiet subtle confidence in his words that made Hanako believe him. He walked stiffly, but not like a man of his age should, now that she thought about it. From what she knew of shinobi, to live to retirement age was, in and of itself, an amazing feat. She didn’t get the feeling that he was of a low rank either.

“Keep trying to stabilize your chakra like I just showed you.” With that he left to go back into the lobby to the main desk. Hanako clutched the cup of tea like her life depended on it and followed his orders.


	10. One More

#  **Chapter 10:**

#  **_One More_ **

 

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* * *

__

__

_He says, “What," so I can fall and hurt and learn but you don’t need to change a thing, that's how it is._

* * *

 

Two white masked ANBU with tiger and panda masks found her at the building a few hours later.

“Took you long enough,” she heard Saito grumble as he led them in into the break room.

The tiger masked one was in front of her in an instant checking her over for injuries. “Are you alright, Yamada-san?” A female voice asked her, hands running over her arms to verify that she was uninjured.

“I hit back hard when fell,” Hanako replied, “Maybe bruised, but am fine.” Her heart had stopped beating as hard and she had calmed down significantly, but she was still a little rattled.

“Let’s go,” the other ANBU said, twisting his hands into shapes. The tiger masked woman did the same, and there was a twisting and jerking feeling along with a rush of air. Grey smoke billowed around them and even though it was dark, Hanako recognized their new surroundings as being the roof of a building right next to where her office was. The panda masked ANBU gave Hanako a moment to let her nausea pass before he slung her onto his back piggy-pack style and the two ANBU launched off the rooftop. Wind rushed by and Hanako found herself hiding her face behind the ANBUs shoulder so that the wind wouldn’t dry her eyes so much. From the windbreak of his shoulder, she watched the city bound by. Every time they jumped off again it was surprisingly smooth and not jarring. The sensation of rising and falling with such smoothness reminded her of one time when she went on a date with a guy who took her on a flight in his two seater plane, the feeling of weightlessness and bobbing up and down as the wind buffeted the plane was rather similar to this.

As they jumped across rooftops the civilian realized that they were heading for the city center, the Fire Shadow Monuments and administration buildings. When they finally stopped, and the panda mask let her down, they were on the balcony of one of the sleek black and grey buildings close to the Fire Shadow Tower. The balcony door opened, and it was indicated for Hanako to go first. Heart rate increasing again, she cautiously walked in. Hanako instantly recognized the interior of the building as the place where she was first welcomed to Hidden Leaves. The air still smelled the same – the metallic tang of blood, sweat, bodily fluids, and that stale smell of desperation. It brought back memories of that time to the forefront.

Time froze.

She couldn’t breathe. “ _No_ ,” she managed, and tried to turn back to find Tiger and Panda still blocking her way. Her mind flashed back to being bound in a chair in the dark while blows rained down on her. Blood rushing in her ears, she could barely hear anything over the dull steady roar of panic. She tried to duck past Tiger, but the woman easily caught her by the shoulder.

“No, please, no,” Hanako heard screamed and faintly registered that it was herself speaking. She scrabbled and scratched at the arm holding her, catching her nails on the arm guards the agent was wearing. Tiger lifted her by the shoulder and then slammed her down onto the ground in a takedown so that the blonde was on her stomach with her arm behind her back and couldn’t move very much.  In response Hanako kicked her legs and screamed ‘no’ repeatedly, trying to buck Tiger off her to no avail. She struggled despite the pain in her shoulder until everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

“Fuck,” Tiger cursed once the screaming civilian was unconscious, grabbing her hand which now had deep red scratches across her exposed fingers as well as her upper arm. “Little fucking cat,” she spat out.

“Didn’t expect her to panic like that,” Panda remarked dryly, picking up the now limp blonde and putting her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

“I don’t fucking know why; little bitch just freaked the fuck out.”

They transported the civilian into an empty dorm room where Panda deposited her on a cot and they closed the door behind them. “Might want to disinfect those,” Panda said dryly, gesturing to the deep angry red marks, one or two of which were beaded with blood. “You could get cat scratch fever.”

“Fucking ha,” Tiger snarled back, locking the door. “C’mon, let’s go tell the captain we found her.”

Several floors down, the two reported in. ANBU headquarters weren’t a ‘headquarters,’ per se. They were a series of facilities spread out across the village. This building though, happened to house part of the Torture & Interrogation facilities along with the Village Security team. Every ANBU facility had a small barracks for those who couldn’t spare the time to go home or stay at the real barracks. This particular building housed the Village Security arm of ANBU. The KMPD policed the village, while Village Security looked after the village border and looked for intruders who passed through the border barrier without authorization. 

Their captain wasn’t happy to see them, not by a long shot.

“How long, again, did it take you to find a single civilian?” He questioned in a deadly tone. The Captain was a short Uchiha, barrel chested with thick arms, and the long black hair so typical of the prolific fighters of his clan.

“Just under two hours,” Tiger said, ashamed of their response time.

“A single, untrained civilian,” he repeated. “When Operative Toad reported an incident, it shouldn’t have taken you more than fifteen minutes to find the asset,” The Captain hissed. “Should we place a tracking seal and paint her orange, so you idiots can find her before an academy student can?”

Operative Toad had been on guard for the little civilian when Yamanaka Inotashi had attacked. Yamanaka had gone to Yamada House to recover after a mission. What he hadn’t told anyone about was the gut wound that he’d refused to go to the hospital for. By the time the civilian had returned home at the end of the day, it had started to fester, and he was in a delirious fever. Toad had saved the civilian and engaged Yamanaka to try to subdue him and told the woman to run for safety. By the time he had the Yamanaka under control, Yamada was gone. Several agents on general standby had been dispatched to help search for her. The last place they looked turned out to be the first place they should have searched.

The Captain spent a few more minutes dressing down the two operatives for their tracking incompetence before something caught his attention.

“Tiger, what is that?” The Uchiha demanded, eyes narrowed at the claw marks on Tiger’s shoulder.

Tiger’s mouth tightened in anger behind her mask at Panda’s poorly concealed shakes of his shoulders. “Nothing, sir,” she replied. “Scratch from a tree.”

Captain Uchiha didn’t look like he believed her. An internal war raged behind his eyes before he shook his head in disappointment and ordered them both to take remedial tracker training before he dismissed them. Once the pair were gone, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Yamanaka Inotashi was in the hospital, where he should have gone in the first place with a stab wound like that. It’d be a month at least now, before he was ready for light duty again, whereas if he’d just gone in the first place it would have been a week, tops. Toad had gotten stabbed in the fight, so there was that, and Yamada House was wrecked. Yamanaka’s feverish state hadn’t stopped him from using jutsu in a closed space, and now the house was wrecked to the point where they’d probably have to move the asset to a different safehouse. What a mess.

 

* * *

 

Hanako woke with a jolt. The room around her was dark. Some light filtered in through a high window casting shadows as it filtered through a tree. She was on a bed, no, a cot. The blanket underneath her was rough cotton. Her neck hurt as if she’d been sleeping on it awkwardly.

The civilian blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the light and see better. She identified a desk, chair, and footlocker. The air had the same stale metallic quality as the interrogation room and cell she originally enjoyed in Hidden Leaves, but the air in the room wasn’t quite the same. Dust, stale air, and stress tinged the air here. Sweat and blood was still a pervasive smell, but the undertones were different.

Her feet touched the floor with a scraping sound, her shoes were still on. She shivered against the cold air. It only took a few moments to locate the light switch by the door, which was locked, although the deadbolt was on the inside this time around. She left the lock alone and focused on the room which was now bathed in light. The desk and footlocker were empty, it looked like a college dorm room but with a furnished bed. The blonde tried the window next, putting the chair directly underneath it to boost herself up. It slid open smoothly.

Outside the night was still dark; the weather was starting to mist lightly, and she felt a cold breeze on her face. It was at least four stories to the ground with no balconies in sight. That option of escape gone, she closed the window.

Hanako stood for a few moments trying to decide what to do. Her mind was racing as to where she might be and if she was in trouble for anything. She started going through all the work she had recently been doing, seeing if anything stood out.

Nothing.

But then again, she wasn’t ‘locked in,’ per se. Maybe there was a reason the ANBU brought her here that wasn’t bad.

She breathed deeply, in and out, several times to try and get a hold on her nerves. The length of the room was crossed in just four strides to attempt to leave. Just as she was reaching for the deadbolt there was a knock.

Hanako jumped away, “Shit,” she swore with a hand on her chest. She breathed in and out again to try and calm herself, while there was another knock at the door. Gingerly, she reached out and flipped the deadbolt open and opened the door. Bear stood in the doorway, intimidating in his black and grey uniform.

“You alright?” He asked in his solid steady voice.

“What happened? Why am I here?” Hanako’s voice wavered and almost cracked.

Bear stepped forward and pushed his mask up onto the top of his head. “Little One,” he said, and his arms on her shoulders. “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything.” He said, meeting her gaze intently with his pale periwinkle-white eyes.

Hanako breathed deeply still trying to keep it together. “I don’t like this place,” she told him honestly. The blonde drank in the solid strength and stability Bear seemed to emit from his very core, trying to absorb some of that energy for herself.

“I know little one, I know,” Bear replied before he stepped away. “Come, we’ll get you debriefed and out of here. This isn’t a good place for you.” He slipped his mask down back over his face again.

Bear led Hanako down several staircases to another floor that had a confusing layout as to the twists and turns to get around. She followed until he led her into an open room which had several people in it doing paperwork and sorting through what was probably reports. In the center of the room was a short black-haired man with his hair tightly braided and pulled back into a long ponytail. It was some of the longest hair she’d seen on a male so far.

Hanako numbly listened as the Captain, a member of the Uchiha clan she noted from the red and white ping-pong paddle shaped fan crest he bore, explained what had happened. She wasn’t in trouble, after all. Apparently, the interior of her house was wrecked. The Yamanaka whom she had left to recover from a mission had an infection that he hadn’t told anyone about. He had been unconscious when she arrived home and was in survival mode when she unlocked the door, which is why he had tried to kill her before Agent Toad had intervened. The agent in question, a man in a sad-faced toad mask, was present in the corner of the room. It was nearing 5 AM, and if she wanted, Toad could take her back to her home, or she could remain at ANBU until the house was repaired.

Hanako didn’t take long to decide. The smell of the headquarters, even now, was bothering her. It smelled too similar to the interrogation rooms she had stayed in during her first days in Hidden Leaves. Even though she was trying to control it and force herself to relax, she couldn’t. Her heart still pounded constantly, and she felt like she was lightheaded constantly. She told the Uchiha as much.anako didn’t take olpng to decide. HanakHanak

Twenty minutes later found Hanako at her front door. At least that was intact. Toad seemed apologetic; he was partly responsible for the destruction.

Glass and porcelain littered the floor. The dining room table was in pieces, as were the chairs, coffee table, and the couch had deep gouges in it. Half of the cabinets were shattered, which was the source of the glass and porcelain shards, and plaster dust covered half the room from the hole in the wall where the blonde could only assume a man was thrown bodily through the sheetrock.  The hole, luckily for her, was only into the guest bedroom. The guest bedroom exterior door was shattered as well. But unluckily for her, the damage was not limited to the living room and guest bedroom. her bedroom exterior door was also shattered, and an assortment of knives and needles were stuck deep into her wall and bed; she could only assume that they were what had shattered the door. Several large holes and gouges were torn into the gardens, scars across all the work she had done the previous year, earth uneven and roots of grass and plants alike exposed to the elements.

Hanako stared at the damage in the early morning light. Toad shifted uncomfortably next to her.

“I mean,” he had been talking the entire time she had inspected the damage, “We can fix this, it won’t take too long. A genin team here and there and this can all be back to tip-top shape.” The civilian had been blocking him out for most of the time. His talking was mostly nervous and hadn’t really added anything useful, mostly telling her what had been destroyed when in his fight with the Yamanaka. He was walking with a limp. Hanako hadn’t missed the bandages around his chest and way he wasn’t moving his left arm. If Captain Uchiha Whatever-his-name-was had decided that Toad was fit for duty, Hanako wasn’t about to argue.

A yellow and blue pattern caught Hanako’s eye, and she knelt to press the two shards back together. A coffee cup that had been painted with bright yellow and blue flowers, one of her favorites. In the background, Toad kept blathering on about how to fix the wall. He only stopped when Hanako loudly declared her intention to sleep somehow. Toad insisted that her bed wasn’t safe, he’d have to find all the ‘senbon’ needles and pull them out, so she had settled for the ruined couch temporarily. The blanket stash had been untouched, so Hanako pulled one around her and sat there for a while, staring at the ruins of her home until she fell asleep in the morning light.

 

* * *

 

A month later, and it was April. The previous devastation had been cleaned out. The exterior doors had been fixed, though a blanket still covered the hole in the wall separating the living room from the guest bedroom. A few crews of handymen had been hired out of Hanako’s own pocket for repairs to the house; the ninja hadn’t been moving fast enough for her satisfaction. Ultimately, she decided to replace all of the kitchen cabinets, not just those destroyed, but the result was quite enough for her liking. The kitchen received a long overdue upgrade. Captain Uchiha, whom Hanako now knew better as he was involved in the invoicing and documentation process, promised Hanako that she would be reimbursed – eventually. She didn’t get the sense that she should be expecting that reimbursement any time soon and chalked it up be part of the debt she owed the world. There had to be a reason that she was sent to this hell.

Her mattress, well, it had to be thrown out. Toad, much to his chagrin, wasn't able to pull out all the needles without destroying the mattress itself. Honestly, Hanako was sure the loss of the mattress was what hit her the hardest. It wasn't the most comfortable mattress she had ever slept on, but it was hers. Every night for six hours she lay on it, and it had become familiar to her. She wasn't sure exactly how to explain it, but she still felt its loss. Her sheets and blankets which had been on it at the time also had to be discarded. Maybe that was what she felt a loss of more. She wasn't quite sure. Hanako felt herself slowly retreating back into the shell she had once been.

Ultimately, the entire experience had taught her a valuable lesson: when shinobi fought, they often weren’t the ones to pay the price for the damage they wrought. The Yamanaka – Hanako refused to think of him by his first name now – came by to apologize, he didn’t seem all that caring or sincere. Even the other usual jounin who came by seemed quite casual about the destruction and didn’t seem to realize the extent of how much it pained Hanako.


	11. Slide

#  **Chapter 11:**

#  **_Slide_ **

 

* * *

_Do you slide on all your nights like this? Do you try on all your nights like this? Put some spotlight on the slide, whatever comes, comes through clear_

* * *

 

The day was bright, wind blowing gently, and birds chirping. Chatter hummed through the marketplace. Housewives shopped, children ran, and vendors hawked their wares. Not bad for a weekend. A few errant clouds rolled through the sky but the deep blue above them kept its color. The smell of a citrus stand brought Hanako closer to it as she marveled at the limes, navel oranges, mandarin oranges, and grapefruit it contained. She shifted a few aside as she searched for the best and made idle chat with the vendor.

Hanako was still an outsider with the rest of the civilians in Hidden Leaves. Not that she blamed them, of course. They were highly conservative compared to where she was from, and she was a foreigner on top of that. Remembering the small town in which she had grown up, she knew it could be a lot worse. From her own memories as a child, she remembered how many families had moved to their town assuming that they could quickly integrate into the local culture, and almost all – with the exception of those who were sports coaches or had children who were prominent athletes – they all moved on within a year or two. Hanako suspected that she got a pass for her more progressive views because she was a foreigner and ‘just didn’t understand how things worked’ here. Which was true to an extent. Hanako was unfamiliar with a collectivist culture, and some things that she would have thought were common sense just – weren’t. Many civilians bought into Hanako’s cover story and assumed that the reason she hadn’t tried to find a good husband and settle down was that she was a good and proper girl who wouldn’t dream of doing that without her father or another family head to arrange a match. They didn’t even consider that Hanako herself might have absolutely no desire to find a husband and settle down, much less enter a relationship at all.

The shinobi were much more accepting, Hanako had to admit to herself. Mostly because they were a culture apart from the civilians. The tendency to live short lives had changed something fundamental within them. With the exception of clan heirs and a few more traditional clans, shinobi settled with who they wished, and ran it fast and loose. If anyone asked Hanako, which they didn’t, she would describe them as ‘equal opportunists.’ Apparently, many shinobi didn’t discriminate between men and women when it came to their sexual partners. Sure, there were those who preferred partners to be of a specific gender, but there wasn’t really a pressure to stick with opposite genders only. It seemed that the threat of death looming over the head of each mission undertaken had an impact on the outlook of people. Although there were still things the shinobi did that were totally alien to her, Hanako often found that she fit in with shinobi better with her social views. Property wasn’t viewed the same; the concept of owning something wasn’t quite as concrete. Hanako had much more of an emotional reaction to the half-demolition of her house than many of the shinobi expected, given her conformance with many of their other views. To them, the destruction of possessions was simply something they came to terms with as a side-effect of the job and didn’t view too seriously. Things could always be replaced; some people too. Hanako found that she couldn’t fault them for the mindset once she thought about it. When life was so fleeting, what were some walls and a roof? What were personal possessions compared to one’s life?

She still had company almost every evening of the week. More and more often, there would already be shinobi at her home before she came home from work in the evenings, and more and more often shinobi would turn up for breakfast, or spend the night on her couch. Food was constantly a commodity in short supply because of that, and she felt like she was constantly shopping for it now.

Hanako displaced a few oranges during her inspection and one tumbled down off the pile. It was about to hit the ground when it was caught by a black-gloved hand. Hanako jerked back in surprise. A surprisingly kindly face greeted her.

Dark charcoal eyes framed by pale lashes looked back at her as the person smiled back at her. Some people only smile with their mouth, never letting it reach their eyes. This person smiled with their eyes as well, their entire face drawn into the gesture, creating a sincere smile. A forehead guard framed his face, his thin lips upturned in a half-smile. Silver hair was drawn back into a ponytail which swayed as he straightened and offered the citrus back to Hanako.

She took it with some trepidation and placed it back onto the stack. “Thanks,” she said before turning to continue selecting fruit. A few more and she was ready, handing it all to the vendor to weigh and pay for. To her surprise, the shinobi didn’t move on, instead staying where he was as if waiting on her to finish.

Once she paid, he fell in step with her. The sound of paws and a panting breath alerted Hanako to the presence of a very large Doberman keeping pace with them on the shinobi’s other side. He was a beautiful mottled brown and black, with tall sharp ears and a navy Kevlar vest which bore a village emblem. Hanako stopped again to purchase celery, onions, and some radishes, which increased the number of bags in her arms. She fumbled a bit with her bags but managed to count out the money without having to put any of them down, and then continued down, shinobi by her side the entire time. A few people pointed or gestured to him unsubtly. He was rather popular with the civilian populace and they didn’t exactly hide that. The blonde was relieved that the attention was on him and not her.

A sense of ingrained manners must have finally gotten to him when she purchased potatoes and the burden became rather large. “Can I get some of those for you?” It technically was a question, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he took the bags from the blonde. Thankfully, he didn’t take them all, but inexplicably managed to grab only the heaviest bags. Hanako was surprised such a decorated war hero was doing something as mundane as carrying her groceries for her.

Hanako hated it when men tried to ‘help’ and do everything for her; it made her feel like they thought her helpless and delicate instead of a capable human being. She had broken up with past boyfriends before because they had done it too often and she thought they were putting her on a pedestal instead of truly trying to be helpful.

Her load lightened considerably, Hanako stopped drooping as much. The only things left were some pastas which, were a quick grab, and chicken. While the butcher bagged her order, she also threw in some livers and kidneys as well.

Once the pair was on the way back to Hanako’s home, she was reminded of an old phrase about negotiations; the first person to talk is the one to lose.  That in mind, she kept silent as the two of them walked. Evidently, he had read the same thing because not a word was uttered on his part either as they walked. The only sound between them was the Doberman’s light panting. What was a comfortable temperature for the humans must have been more than hot for someone with a fur coat.

Once Hanako unlocked her front door, she turned to take her bags from the shinobi only for him to push his way past into the now-open house. At least he removed his shoes first, she noted bitterly. The Doberman was also well-mannered, wiping off its paws on the rug before entering and finding an out of the way spot to lay down. The shinobi knew which cabinets to put things in, so putting things away took much less time than expected. Hanako put the produce into the fridge. When she shut the door and turned around, he was a lot closer than she had expected. Too close. The kindly expression, so obviously fake now, was gone from his face, replaced by a serious expression which looked as if it was carved from stone. 

The blonde put up a hand in between them as a shield. It was ignored as the shinobi took a step forward further into her personal space. Hanako’s hand on his chest didn’t do much good as it pressed against his navy shirt. Either he was wearing armor under his clothes, or he had one firm chest.

He was the one to speak first. “I have a question for you about my wife.”

Hanako blinked. She hadn’t expected that. A threat, a salacious invitation maybe, but not that. “Alright,” she said slowly. “Let me make some tea.”

The shinobi didn’t move so Hanako had to skirt around him. Hanako found herself happy that she’d had the foresight to pick up the extra chicken livers and kidneys because when she took them out and put a few on a plate for the Doberman it perked right up and after a few suspicious sniffs started eating.

While the water boiled, Hanako crossed her arms and leaned back against the countertop. “What is your question?” She queried.

“My wife died shortly after our son’s birth,” the man started. “An assassin in the night. She protected him with her life.” The White Fang looked pained at the words. “Does your world – your home – believe in reincarnation?”

“Oh,” Hanako returned. She busied herself with pulling out some snacks from the cabinets and refrigerators and arranging them on a plate before taking them along with a few saucers to the dining table. She took the time to think, speaking idly as she did.

“My world didn’t have single religion. There were many. Most believed in heaven and in hell. Some thought of reincarnation. Others believed that dead ones would be becoming unified with stars once dead to watch over living.” She moved to pour the tea for the two of them once it was appropriately hot. “Are you wanting to know of reincarnation only?”

The White Fang waited for Hanako to take the first sip, as she had expected he would. He followed with his own only half a heartbeat later. Force of habit, she supposed. He was a living legend, according to the other civilians, even more formidable and ferocious than the Legendary Three. And here he was, asking her about the afterlife.

She decided to pretend as if he had given an affirmative response. “I grew in house with religion,” Hanako began. “In my family’s religion, all dead – good dead – are united in afterlife. Bad dead are tortured for always, in firepits and lava. But the good dead would live in perfect paradise with one another and their god.” She took a sip. “That religion, and others, had one god only. Had demon too, _Deviru’_ , but only one. Good and bad. Other religions are like yours; have reincarnation and many spirit. I don’t know much of those.”

The white-haired man across from her lowered his head. “What does it mean to be a ‘good dead’?”

“To be good person in life. Love others, don’t do bad thing, do not lie, cheat, steal, murder, gossip, and most importantly, must have relationship with god.” Hanako replied.

The White Fang smiled ruefully, showing teeth. Hanako knew why. To shinobi, lying, cheating, stealing, and murder, were all part of their lifestyle. There were qualifications on those things of course – your allies. How could they justify themselves as good people, or the good guys, if they were fundamentally wrong themselves? Gossip? Information gathering. Cheating? You were just being smarter than the other guy. Stealing? The other person obviously didn’t care that much about their things if they’d just leave them lying about. Killing? Well, they were going to kill you first.

“I never agreed with that,” Hanako said conversationally as if the man before her had responded. “That religion was not good for me. Acted like hipocreate.”

“Hypocrite,” he corrected.

“Same thing,” Hanako brushed it off. “I think death brings peace. Whatever religion. If you pass on or stay, wait and stay with family or move on to next life. Cycle is complete, begins anew. Birth and death, light and dark. I don’t know anyone who come back. But have to believe there is peace.

“Was one religion, ancient in my world, but was religion that thought was two worlds: World of living, and world of dead. When die in living world, pass into world of dead, into _Hei’diis_ , where would live. Then, after time, when person forgot old life, pass back into world of living. Like circle, always being born, always dying.”

The White Fang asked a few more questions about spirituality – and Hanako’s views on it – before he departed abruptly and without explanation. His companion remained for a few moments to lick Hanako’s hand before following him in a puff of smoke. She realized belatedly that his companion must have been one of the intelligent ninja animals she had heard about; a summon. She decided it was a good thing that she offered some food for it as well.

 

****

* * *

 

After that meeting, Hanako began to notice the Doberman around the city regularly. When she was on her way to the office, at home, on her walks, and often from a distance. Whether the nin-dog had been around before or not and she hadn’t noticed, Hanako wasn’t sure. But she did now. The Doberman wasn’t the only nin-dog she noticed but was the only one she could pair a partner with. A few Inuzuka clansmen came by her home periodically and they brought their nin-dog partners with them when they did.

Surprisingly, the Inuzuka didn’t trend toward any specific dog breeds. There were several different breeds that she recognized as Pyrenees mixes, Huskies, Mastiff breeds, and others. What she did recognize as a trend with the Inuzuka nin-dogs though, was that they were almost all very large breeds. Also, they didn’t seem to wear the same Kevlar vests as Hatake nin-dogs did. Hanako wondered why; maybe it was a mobility thing. She wasn’t sure.

Idly, the civilian leafed through a few receipts and combed through records for Mr. Eiji, her original client. She always made sure to take extra time on his documents as he was her first and original customer, and she knew that his good word had made her success possible. If it hadn’t been for his recommendations, she wouldn’t have her small business.

A few weeks before he had approached her with his suspicions that someone was taking money from his shops as his accounts didn’t have as much as they should have. The numbers worked out, but he had a feeling that there was something wrong somewhere. Hanako had agreed to take a deep-dive into his accounts and see what she could find. So far – he was right. The inventory counts paired with the sales meant that he should have a substantially larger amount of money in profits. So that meant one of two things: either someone was falsifying sales and stealing the inventory, or they were pocketing sales money and not recording the sales. Either way, the final inventory counts weren’t matching up with what should be there.

Hanako finished adding up a week’s counts and numbers and flipped another page before adding that too the ledger she had going. Working with things like this made Hanako glad that she had set up extra rules for herself. For instance, she had made it a rule that, no matter the customer, all bank accounts she had access to require her client’s signature before they would allow any changes. When she went through and cut checks for all of Mr. Eiji’s vendors and employees, she submitted a report to him with all of the numbers and receipts before he sent back an authorization slip, which she then took to the bank to order the payments. It was extra hassle, but it helped to remove her from any lists of suspicious persons when cases like what she was looking at came up.

Making notes, she tallied up what she thought were suspicious points. Really though, what Mr. Eiji would have to do is take more regular inventory counts or investigate to find out who was stealing, but she now had definite evidence to give him that someone was stealing, and it was likely one of his cashiers. Hanako figured that there was probably some moral lesson to be found there, that no matter what country, culture, or world, there would always be those willing to steal from those who employed them, and they would have excuses and reasons ready and available.

She straightened the papers; tapping them here and there so that they would form a neat and orderly stack, and slipped them into a manila envelope, which she sealed. She would make the trip across the village to give it to Mr. Eiji herself once she finished her day’s work.

Stretching arms wide and high above her head, the civilian arched her back and yawned as large as she could, taking the opportunity to flex as many of her tired muscles as she could all at once. Popping her fingers and wrists systematically as she went, Hanako got up and walked to the little kitchen to make more tea and snacks. She’d recently gained a proclivity for cured meats and cheeses, of which she had a small assortment of in the old work refrigerator. The thing looked to be about the same age as the building, and somehow it kept chugging along. It was the kind of refrigerator that could probably shield someone from a nuclear explosion. The little refrigerator that could. As she leaned against the countertop gnawing on a piece of cheese and bread, she heard a light scratching noise.

Hanako looked around, wondering if she had just heard what she thought she did. Then it came again. Deciding that it wasn’t a trick of her mind, she put down her impromptu sandwich to investigate.

The scratching noise came again from the entrance to the office. More insistent this time. Hanako opened the door, not knowing what she would find. There was no one.

A throat cleared, and Hanako’s attention was directed downward. A nin-dog. Specifically, a blue heeler nin-dog, with a vest on and scrolls tucked into pockets on the sides.

The blonde tried to control her surprise when the dog spoke. “You Yamada-san?” It said in a bored tone.

She nodded.

The dog reached back and pulled one of the scrolls out with its mouth and presented it to her. “Here ‘ya go. Message from the Boss.”

“Do I need to sign anything?”

The dog shook its head in a negative before trotting off down the hallway toward the stairs.

She shrugged and started to open the scroll. As she was about to pop the seal off, a hand touching her shoulder made her jump out of her skin.

_“Jizus muther’fuhkin kraihst gahd’ammit fuk_ ,” she squealed and about fell over. She dropped the scroll on the ground and doubled over trying to catch her breath. The ANBU who scared her looked on apathetically.

“You shouldn’t be opening strange scrolls from unknown senders, Yamada-san,” they said.

“Make noise before you do something like that,” Hanako breathed out. “Don’t do that!”

She looked at the ceiling for a moment, still trying to control her breath. Spying the scroll which was still on the ground, she snatched it up and shoved it at the ANBU. “You open it.”

The agent must have been rolling his eyes behind the mask, because he grabbed the scroll rather sassily and snapped it open with a rather dramatic flourish. A small piece of paper fluttered out which the agent grabbed easily and read, before he handed the scroll to Hanako.

 

_Yamada-san,_

_If you will forgive me for taking up your time, would you join me for dinner tonight at 7 o’clock? If no, please send your answer with Matsu. If yes, I will collect you from your home at 7._

_Hatake Sakumo_

 

Hanako glanced down the hallway where the dog, Matsu, had left, narrowing her eyes at the direction the dog had taken. Either Hatake didn’t want her to say no, or the dog didn’t. Hanako wasn’t sure which.

She sighed lightly before realizing she still had an audience.

“So, what’s your reply?” He said lightly.

“Gossip,” Hanako accused. She turned and crossed her arm with a triumphant smile. “You want to know to have juicy gossip for your friends. And since there is no way to send reply, is yes.” She closed the door to the outside, taking a moment to make sure that it clicked shut.

The agent said nothing, confirming her suspicions. For people who worked in espionage, they really had big mouths when it came to their colleagues. Although, Hanako was fairly certain that they did it on purpose, and most of the rumors were false, as a countermeasure against hostile information gatherers. If the truth would get out eventually, it was easier to muddy the waters so that it couldn’t be found. Either way, shinobi gossiped like no other, even about what she would have considered non-gossip-worthy things.

She had a feeling that this one was going to be talked about though. From what she knew, the White Fang kept to a small group of people and wasn’t a social butterfly. She was curious what he wanted from the dinner; possibly more discussion? She had noticed that there were more dogs around her neighborhood that were obvious nin-dogs without any recognizable Inuzuka in sight. Although that didn’t stop their partners from doing things by themselves.

The blonde sat down at her desk as the ANBU agent strolled casually into the kitchenette and started helping himself to her food. She was too distracted thinking about what she would wear to protest the fact that he was going through her salami supply at an alarming rate. She pressed a pencil to the corner of her mouth as she thought through what needed to be done for the rest of the day. She might even take off work early today; but first she’d need to drop off papers, maybe see what clothes she had in her closet that would be nice enough to go out to eat in…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!


	12. Latch

#  **Chapter 12:**

#  **_Latch_ **

 

* * *

 

_I feel we're close enough,I wanna lock in your love. I think we're close enough…_

 

* * *

Hanako frantically looked through her closet. Honestly, she had one or two sundresses, but she was severely lacking in the 'date-night' clothes department. Mostly what she had was either for work or lounging around the house. Before this point she hadn't had a reason for to buy anything for dates.

She took a moment to pause, relishing the light feeling in her stomach of excitement. It wasn't often in her new home that she did thing like this. If she was being honest with herself, it was one of the few times she was allowing herself to have fun. Buying new bulbs for the garden didn't count.

Finally, she decided that simple was better, and went with a black A-line tea length dress. Seeing as, you know, Hatake hadn't actually told her where they were going, she figured it was a safe bet for appropriateness. She did her makeup quickly, just making a few adjustments to take it from work to evening and pinned her hair up into a soft bun. It didn't take long for her to be ready.

Once satisfied with her appearance, she exited into the living room. There were already three shinobi in her house for the evening and another in the bathroom showering by the sound of it, one of which wolf-whistled as soon as she saw Hanako.

"Look at you, all dolled up," the kunoichi said with a wink. Two of them were wearing armor still, the purple-haired kunoichi with them was the only one who had changed out of the heavy metal plating and mail and was wearing casual clothes. Hanako noted that her hair was a deep plum color instead of its usual violet pulled up on top of her head in a damp messy pile. Since there was also someone showering in the bathroom, so she assumed that Asuka had just been the first to clean up of the four.

Hanako blushed and smiled shyly. She flopped rather ungracefully onto the couch next to Asuka. "Can you believe that this is the first date I've been on in over a year?"

Asuka grinned. "How did he ask you out?"

"He sent a dog."

"That man," Asuka clicked her tongue. "Couldn't even show up in person to ask a girl on a date."

One of the other shinobi, a man of shorter height with burn scars across the right half of his head looked over, attention caught. "Who are you going on a date with?" His voice was rough as if he had smoked his entire life.

Asuka answered for Hanako. "The White Fang himself."

"You don't aim low, do you," the man replied.

"I don't aim at all," Hanako replied in an offended tone. "He asked me."

The shinobi froze, realizing how his words sounded. "I don't – that's not, nevermind," he fumbled.

Asuka ignored the man as if he hadn't spoken and started chatting with Hanako about what had been happening in her life since Asuka had left the previous month. The two caught up for the next few minutes while Hanako waited. At one point she got water for the two of them. While they were talking the shinobi who was in the shower emerged and another took his place. Hanako had the good sense not to ask where they had been. There was no blood, but plenty of dust on them. He carried his freshly rinsed clothes with him along with dirty armor which Hanako watched carefully as he set them outside to dry along with what must have been Asuka's armor and clothes as well.

Asuka took the water from Hanako's hand gladly. There were heavy bags underneath her eyes and one of them was a deep purple that almost matched her hair, along with yellowed bruising around her temple. When she caught Hanako checking it worriedly she laughed.

"Ah, I took a hit to the forehead, it all drained down to my eye of course. Makes me look like Shinji beats the hell out of me."

Shinji, the one whom had insulted Hanako fumbled again. "I would never, that's ridiculous," he protested looking flustered. Hanako got the sense that his teammates enjoyed making him uncomfortable based on their amused reactions and laughs.

"Don't worry, darling, I tell them that I ran into the door on accident when they ask," Asuka said. Hanako raised her eyebrows slightly at the blitheness with which they were making woman-beating jokes but said nothing. Shinobi had rather stylistic brand of black humor. One of her brothers who had been a paramedic made similar jokes about relatively taboo subjects.

After a few more minutes of banter and Shinji's stammering protests there was a knock at the door. Hanako stood. "That is my cue," she said, excusing herself and gathering her purse and a light black jacket.

Sakumo was dressed simply but nicely, in black slacks and a grey long sleeve shirt. The sun hadn't yet set but the spring evenings were still chilly and the cold would set in as the light fled.

He held out his hand. She took it, nervous butterflies beating around in her stomach.

 

* * *

 

They walked to the restaurant, Sakumo leading the way. As they walked, Hanako asked questions only to receive short answers.

"How have you been since last week?" she asked with a bright smile.

"Good. It was not that bad really," he said with a shrug.

"Oh, that's good to hear. I've been busy with work; I had new client come in Tuesday and me if could start taking over payroll." Hanako shrugged, "They have a sales compensation that is little bit crazy, so it took bit of my time to set up."

"Interesting," he paused, then "Glad it's going well."

This wasn't going the way Hanako had expected it to. "Right," she said, hesitantly and bit her lip. "So, um, how's," she thought for a moment fishing for a new topic. Work obviously wasn't it. "How's your son?"

"Fine. Nothing new really. No problems."

Hanako frowned. She was running out of questions to ask that weren't too personal for their level of relationship. He was already being cagey about his responses anyways.

They continued in this manner until they reached the destination – a BBQ joint. Not one of the nice Akimichi owned ones either. The butterflies were beginning to disperse from Hanako's stomach. This wasn't exactly turning out the way she had hoped it would.

Sakumo selected a booth with a view of the entrance and took the bench with its back to the wall, Hanako across from him. They ordered quietly, her flipping through the menu examining the items. She selected some food that was a little reminiscent of home, and they settled in to wait.

"So, do you have dogs run errand for you much?" Hanako asked, wincing slightly internally as she got some of the grammar wrong. She was getting much better at speaking, but some tenses and cases still jumbled up for her.

"Halfway often; they're useful for running clan errands as well as secure messages." He sprawled across the booth seating, taking up a good amount of space. It was funny how men tended to do that when they wanted to seem attractive or dominant.

That was new information. "You're part of clan?"

He didn't reply immediately. "We're one of the smaller ones. My son stays with one of my clansmen most of the time."

"I think you stay busy. Can't be easy with many missions as you should have."

He shook his head. "Not exactly. It's not a rare problem to have."

"Do no – not clan, having shinobi. Well, what do they do?"

"The village runs special daycare centers for shinobi without clans or family."

"Ah," Hanako replied, nodding her face pensive.

Their food arrived a little later and they dug in. Hanako was pleasantly surprised with the BBQ, it was better than she had expected it would be. She fished around several times, chasing morsels around with her chopsticks as she couldn't quite grab them properly. There were one or two other customers at the restaurant that gave them periodic glances, a few of them shinobi. She guessed it was probably because the White Fang didn't go on dates very often.

"You're not talkative," Hanako said, after a while, cutting through the silence that had reigned while they ate.

"No, not particularly."

Hanako about rolled her eyes at him. She finished her food and set down her chopsticks, resolved. "Why did you ask me here firstly?" Her voice was tinged with the annoyance she was starting to feel.

Grey eyes analyzed her closely. Sakumo's casual and aloof demeanor that he had been exuding dissipated. He leaned forward, hands steepled in front of him and rested his chin to rest just above his fingers. "May I be direct?"

Hanako raised her eyebrows slightly and inclined her head.

"I'm not interested in a relationship."

She froze. That was not what she was expecting. She blinked twice. "What?"

"I'm not interested in a relationship," he repeated.

"I heard you," she replied snappily, shaking herself out of the frozen state she had been in. "If you were not interested in relationship, why ask me out?"

"Well, because I like you," Hatake replied.

It was official. This had to be one of the worst dates that she had ever been on. Hanako looked at the silver-haired man like he had a faulty circuit. "But not enough to date," she said skeptically.

She knew that Fire Country looked down on unmarried women past their early twenties, but this was a little much. Such a douchebag, she thought, staring at him. She felt her face moving into its neutral position that did when she was angry. When Hanako got angry, she didn't get loud until she was incandescent. When she was simply mad, her face went into a neutral position and she didn't say much; her voice would stay deadly calm and quiet. She would sit there, stony and quiet, listening to whatever explanation that obviously wasn't enough. Her friends had described it to her before that she looked like she was either going to eat them or fuck them, or both.

"Yes, and no." The nerve of this man. "You're a civilian," he said, as if that explained it all.

"I'm aware of fact," Hanako said levelly. "I can't melt out of wall or alter looks like shinobi. It's kind of obvious."

"Exactly. If someone ever tried to target you to get to me, then there is nothing you could do. I'm not sure I could carry that kind of guilt if you got hurt because of me."

What a load of shit! He 'couldn't carry that guilt?' What kind of line is that? The kind that naïve civilian girls are supposed to swoon over? He loved her too much to get close to her, so really, she should feel so flattered and amazed at how noble and heroic he was?

"Cut bullshit, Hatake-san," Hanako spat out. "Why ask me here? If you care like you say, would have done nothing." She could feel herself getting angrier and angrier by the second and losing her grasp on grammar the angrier she got.

He looked surprised at her bluntness. "I want to get closer to you, but I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to promise you too much." His tone was starting to piss her off. It was the tone of a man who was confident that he was saying what he thought a woman wanted to hear. "Things like this get complicated and I'm gone out of the village on missions for the majority of the time, but when I am here – "

Hanako had heard enough. "Let guess. Want a 'friends but more than friends' relationship." She raised her fingers in quotation marks. "'No strings', 'uncomplication', you want to be close to me, but not 'too' close." Her voice was sharp in its accusations.

"No, it's not that. I –"

She cut him off. "You want to fuck me but not deal with emotion. Relationship benefit but no work. I understand," she said coldly. "Very convenience for shinobi, like having prostitute not having to pay." His eyes went wide at the accusation.

A few people in other booths were leaning around trying to get a better ear on the conversation. Hanako didn't care. She started digging around in her purse.

"If you could let me explain, you would understand better." He waved his hands in front of him in a placating gesture.

"Fuck yourself," she hissed, placing enough money to cover their meals with a tip on the table. She stood up and strode out of the restaurant ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the other shinobi patrons of the establishment, leaving the silver-haired shinobi behind.

Outside the sky was a deep blue-black, with dusk lining the western edge with an orange-red glow. The wind blew coldly, causing her to shiver and wrap her jacket more tightly around her. She walked the entire way back to her home going over the disastrous date in her mind. What pissed her off the most was that he tried to say that he liked her but not enough to actually date.

Fucking prick, she thought. If that was the case, then he should have just said nothing, not invited her anywhere, and saved her the time and humiliation of being insulted in public to her face like that. She knew that those other shinobi were listening in. The gossips that they were, likely they were curious what he had been doing with the foreigner. She knew that she'd done the right thing. If she had stayed there and even looked like she was entertaining the idea of being his fuckbuddy, then her reputation would take a nosedive.

Hanako didn't care what consenting adults did with one another, but she was still hyper-aware of how Hidden Leaves treated people by reputation. She had worked hard to make on for herself as a smart, numbers-savvy person that would treat each and every client with respect and diligence. She was not about to potentially lose any of that hard-earned reputation because some shinobi wanted to get laid, and other wanted to gossip about. If it had been a Hidden Leaves native, then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, considering that shinobi did things like that without repercussions, but Hanako was very aware that she was under much more scrutiny.

Fuck him, she firmly decided. He might be some legendary fighter, but he was still a douche.

 

* * *

Asuka's team was still at Yamada House. In fact, they had gotten very comfortable, drinking and playing boardgames after dinner. They were sprawled around the living room on couches and chairs chatting about what they would be doing during their off-time. Shinji had been explaining how much he wasn't looking forward to seeing his grandmother again after something that she had said to him before he went on their last mission when the front door burst open with the force of a hurricane.

The civilian resident of the house stormed in, slamming the door closed behind her.

Asuka, being on the best terms with the civilian, spoke for the group. "How did it go?" Asuka called.

"Terrible," Hanako replied, shivering and glad for the warmth of the house. Her jacket had not been enough to protect her from the cold, but her temper had kept her from feeling the brunt of it. She disappeared into her bedroom to change.

The shinobi all looked at one another. Shinji made an 'oooh' face at Asuka, who sighed and followed the civilian into her room. Shinji delighted in drama much more than was good for him.

Hanako was removing her dress in the bathroom and it was thrown onto the bed with considerable and violent force.

"What happened?" the purple-haired kunoichi questioned, her eyebrows raised.

"He is asshole!" Hanako cried before launching into a description of the date, pausing while she washed her face, and punctuating the story with epithets directed at the silver-haired jounin.

"Wine," Asuka ordered once Hanako had changed and settled back into comfortable clothes.

Hanako was grateful that Asuka was there. The woman had become something of a friend to her. "Please," she responded.

She repeated her tale to the other shinobi with less epithets this time and a little more detail. She snuggled on the couch under a blanket with a hefty glass of wine, eyes bright. Asuka wasn't sure that she had seen the civilian this animated in, well, ever.

The response from the other shinobi was a 'fuck him' in solidarity for the civilian. The rest of the evening was spent drinking, commiserating with one another about dates gone bad, and laughing at one another's previous misfortunes in the dating world. Hanako told a few more stories about previous dates gone bad as well.

It was as best as she could do to salvage the night. Laugh about her own bad luck in love. And life in general. Wasn't much else she could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was a hard one to write. I spent a good while working on this chapter working over the dialogue. Sakumo in particular was hard for me to write. Not my best work but it'll do. 


	13. Runaway

#  **Chapter 13:** **_Runaway_**

 

* * *

 

_Let's have a toast for the douche bags, let's have a toast for the assholes, let's have a toast for the scumbags, every one of them that I know. Let's have a toast for the jerk offs, that'll never take work off. Baby, I got a plan, run away fast as you can_

 

* * *

The scratch of pencil lead on paper was one of the few sounds in the room. A breeze blew through, causing a few papers to rustle from time to time. April was a relief from the dreary winter. It was times like this that Hanako really hated having an office job. She could hear all of the hustle and bustle from the outside world and was jealous. Unfairly jealous, she had to remind herself. Though chained to a desk, she still had more freedom than many out there when it came to her life. Those outside might have more free time and more ability to enjoy beautiful days like today, but she had more financial security. Although that security came at the cost of things like this.

She leaned forward and scribbled down a few more numbers before massaging her hand and wrist. A light cough and sniffle distracted her for a moment. Hanako was brought back to the moment and reminded that she had guests. Little Haruno Souta wiped at his nose with his sleeve before his elder sister handed him a tissue surreptitiously. Satoko looked nervous but assured while she waited on the accountant to tally numbers.

After punching a few more figures into the calculator and adding and subtracting several columns, she wrote down a few summary numbers and slid the paper over to Satoko.

"This should be account numbers next month when control is taken back," she explained, walking the young woman through the sheet. "This is numbers now. Should not change unless you move money around."

"Can't I just take it all out this month?" Satoko questioned.

Hanako quirked an eyebrow. "You can, but will cost penalty, especially since contract was signed for until next month. Part of condition is to forfeit some percentage for early withdrawal, so would lose not gain," she explained. She knew what the girl wanted to do. Since the Haruno Clan's representative had come and taken the situation – and the sibling's uncle – firmly in hand and had dragged the vulture of an uncle back to the Land of Iron, she wanted to resume as much control of her late parents' assets as possible. Hanako pulled a paper out of the stack to show Satoko the terms of the investment.

As far as the inheritance went, true to her word, Hanako had devised a complicated shell game of holding companies to spirit the assets of the Haruno siblings' business away. The further Hanako had gotten into it, the more she realized that the usage of shell companies was not a strategy that had yet been created in the Elemental countries. So, the assets were safely hidden away, but still controlled by Satoko, while Hanako had placed the money itself into an investment. In return for the seven-month loan, the siblings would receive 4% in interest on the money, but the fund manager had also written in several exculpatory clauses, including one that required that the siblings forfeit 5% if they tried to withdraw early. Currently, Satoko was fifteen days or so from her birthday, and on the first business day following her birthday the money would revert back to their accounts with the interest. Not a day before. The cash assets were the first thing that Haruno Omoi had gone after as they were the easiest to trace. Hanako hadn't managed to "sell" the cash accounts like she had the other assets. It turned out that the shinobi Satoko had hired under Hanako's advice was a god-send. He had delayed, misdirected, and cast illusions on the man every time that he tried to visit the bank demanding access to the accounts. The three-week delay was enough until the main family representative arrived to drag him back. It also didn't hurt that the man was a drunk as well as a philanderer. Once the clan representative had gotten his hands on the wretch, the jig was up. Though the siblings had been placed under restrictions by their family, the two had expected the restrictions. Souta was to leave during summer to Land of Iron to finish his education by his grandfather's side, while Satoko was to stay and work to expand the business in Hidden Leaves under the supervision of another relative who was to also educate her on whatever her father hadn't yet been able to. The girl was rather business savvy, and Hanako didn't foresee her having any problems as long as she got along with whoever her clan sent.

Poor Souta, the kid basically kicked his shoes together on the floor for the next hour or so while the two women discussed the numbers and specifics of when Satoko would take direct possession and Hanako would dissolve the shell companies. He knew enough to realize that as soon as that happened, he would be leaving his sister for the Land of Iron. At one point Hanako got up and fixed a plate of small snacks for Souta and the two women to munch on. She would have served them the lemonade she had made, but since she had to hand-squeeze the lemons it was a precious resource that she hoarded for herself. And the ANBU who stole it from her when they thought she wasn't looking.

Once they were all done and finalized, the blonde saw the two pink-haired Haruno to the door. With a few final goodbyes they were gone. She looked at the clock on the wall. Around 11:30. She sat down in her chair and spun it around in circles a few times before she made up her mind. There was a little yakitori shop down the road that she really liked; whatever sauce they used was just delicious. Another spin in the chair and her mind was made up.

She locked up the important papers (you never know when someone might try to break in) and grabbed her purse. She had a few bills in it still; with as much as she dealt with the banks in Hidden Leaves, one would assume that she would carry more cash, but old habits die hard. Hanako still felt strange carrying around large amounts of cash, having spent much of her adult life with cards instead. Closing and latching the windows before she locked the door and left.

She greeted Old Saito when she came downstairs. He nodded back. "Still doing those chakra exercises I showed you, girl?" He called out gruffly.

"Every day," she replied sweetly. Since that fiasco with the injured ANBU who had been attacking everyone in feverish delirium, Saito had become much friendlier with her. The gruff old man didn't have much family left. His children had also followed the shinobi path and hadn't survived it with the exception a granddaughter left by one who had managed to live that long. They weren't on the 'long in-depth conversations' level yet, but he would chat with Hanako where he usually ignored the residents and building clients. From what Hanako understood of shinobi retirement packages and typical savings left behind by higher level shinobi, he likely had a quite comfortable retirement fund built up. Which made her think that he was working as security for the building either because he was bored and needed something to keep him busy, or he was funding a more expensive education for his granddaughter. She hadn't ever worked up the nerve to ask him which it was.

"Here," she said, demonstrating with a blank piece of paper lying on the watch desk. Hanako gummed up her best concentration into swirling the energy into her fingertips until the paper was firmly attached to her hand and she could wave her open palm around without dislodging it.

Saito laughed. "I haven't seen a face that screwed up in concentration since I was teaching my genin team." Hanako's face flushed in embarrassment. Saito waved a hand at her in response. "Keep working on that until you can stick heavy objects on your hands like that. Once you do, I'll teach you some more tricks," he said fondly.

Hanako grinned. "Does this mean I call you sensei?" She asked cheekily.

"Damned right it does," he responded.

"Want bite to eat while I'm out?" Hanako asked him.

"Dango, if you happen to pass by Madame Kurosawa's shop."

Hanako mock saluted to him and left.

On the street life bustled along. A trio of kids chaperoned by an exasperated jounin passed by headed for a ramen stand. The leader, a girl with a shock of fire-engine red hair chattered on about "the ramen, sensei, we'll miss the lunch special!" and her companions fired back denials that they wouldn't. There was something familiar about them, Hanako decided as they passed, but she couldn't place it.

She shook her head and walked on. In a village this size, there was a chance you would eventually see most people at least once even if you never knew who they were. She said hello to the people she knew, bowing slightly in the way that she had been taught. Several blocks down and she finally found the bright red and green sign of the yakitori shop that she favored. The doors and windows were kept open to the spring breeze and several tables were set up under the porch overhang outside. Hanako debated mentally for a moment before deciding on one of the outside tables closer to the side. The waiter came quickly, and she placed her order.

While Hanako waited for her order she slipped a hand into her purse and pulled out a book. _The Sociopolitical Influences That Shaped the Creation of the Hidden Villages_ by Senju Tobirama. It wasn't quite light reading, but it was a wonderful insight into the military mentality that shaped how Hidden Leaves operated. Two of Hanako's brothers had enlisted into the military back home, falling in line with a family tradition of military service. Reading it was in a way like talking to her uncle, a career officer. He had a certain – strategic – way of thinking that showed itself even in everyday conversation. Reading this book was like talking to someone like her uncle but times one hundred. From all that Hanako had read about the history of Fire Country and Hidden Leaves by extension, Senju Hashirama may have been the diplomat who brought everyone together, but his younger brother Senju Tobirama was the real power behind the duo. Hashirama was a figurehead when it came to the founding of the village. Tobirama was the one who laid out the law, administration, village functions, and everything. Hashirama was beloved by the people, and so the books wouldn't say it outright, but in between the lines Tobirama was the real ruler.

Once her food came, Hanako found herself reading and eating at the same time. A few customers filtered in and out, but none took the tables near to her, most deigning to eat inside instead. Hanako found it very funny that thanks to the Yamanaka clan's experimental magic trick she could read just fine, but still couldn't speak well. She was the opposite of most language learners, immersing herself into classical history and literature in the new language before making herself competent at speaking.

After a little bit she finished her food. And then the blonde civilian found that she absolutely did not want to go back to the office. She could see a clock on the wall of the restaurant through a window. Another hour, then. When the waiter came by to take her plate she ordered a tea and a flakey pastry filled with sugar and nuts and kept reading.

A few pages later, Hanako's concentration was broken by a commotion building across the street from her. A little noodle stand had a few people in front of it who were getting into an argument. Shinobi, she mentally decided. The civilians weren't very big on having disagreements in public as they were usually very conscious of 'what the neighbors might think' regarding almost everything they did. It wasn't the only reason, but one of the main reasons that Hanako was as comfortable around shinobi as she was is that they were much more individualistic than their civilian counterparts.

Two, no three, men were arguing. From this distance she couldn't tell, and they were speaking too fast for her to understand more than a word here and there. She pretended like she was still reading but kept an eye on them out of the corner of her eye. Civilians were starting to edge away as their voices continued to raise. Smart – if knives started flying there would be nothing they could do to protect themselves. Usually other shinobi or the Military Police would interfere before things got to that point but there were usually stories floating around about this person or that's relative/friend that got caught in the crossfire and maimed or sometimes even killed.

She toyed with going inside and joining the other civilians for a few moments before deciding that it wouldn't escalate. Too many Leaf shinobi around to enforce the rules if there was trouble. It might be a scene, but it wouldn't be worth it for them to try anything cute.

Actually, Hanako noted with mild interest when her line of sight cleared and she got a better look, they weren't regular shinobi. That was a different uniform, she realized. Dark maroon red, with a brown heavy armored vest over it. Two of the men were not from Hidden Leaves, only one was. Scanning around, Hanako looked up to the rooftops.

There. She spied several cloaked and masked ANBU perched up high, just waiting for something to happen. They were there for intimidation, she realized. If she, a civilian could see them just glancing around and they weren't hiding, then they were making sure that the foreigners stayed under control.

As the Hidden Leaves shinobi, the one in green and blue – great coloring system to keep it straight who was friend and foe by the way – got more heated, a few more green and blue armored shinobi showed up. Several stood back observing or intimidating, whichever way you wanted to think of it, while two of them grabbed their compatriot and pulled him back. It didn't take long after that for things to die down. Hanako observed, sipping her tea occasionally as they talked some more to a few of the Hidden Leaves nin and then slunk away down the street.

"Why didn't you go inside?" A voice startled Hanako and she jumped a little, miraculously not spilling her tea in the process.

To her right, at a table between hers and the restaurant, was a shinobi casually sprawled over a chair. A chair that had been previously pushed in to the table. He hadn't made a single sound getting there, and Hanako had evidently been more engrossed and not as casual about watching the scene across the street as she thought she had been.

The blonde took a sip of tea to buy her a few seconds to regain control of herself. "I was supposed to?" She questioned.

The strange shinobi huffed. "Yeah, you were." The civilian got a good look at him. Red slashes decorated his cheeks and forehead, his eyes were a dark grey his short spikey hair was a dark cloudy color. He wore the standard uniform of Hidden Leaves, but his symbol plate thing – she wasn't sure what it was really called – was attached to a throat guard. And he was young. Like, really young. Maybe fifteen, sixteen? His face still hadn't lost the baby-fat of his teens. "Did you not see all of the sane people get the hell out of here?"

"I did," she conceded. "But also saw watchers. Foreign ones, they're not dumb. They also saw." She touched her hand to her chin and leaned forward a little. "Was risk, sure. But would be so stupid to start fight in middle of foreign land, with being outnumbered. So maybe not so risky." The blonde cocked her head to the side after a half-moment, "Also I was curious." She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her book.

He cleared his throat to get her attention again. "That," he began, "was incredibly dumb."

Hanako caught a noise of protest in her throat that came out as a half croak.

"But," he added, "you're not wrong. Those Stone fucks wouldn't do a damned thing even if Sasuke slapped one of them in the face. They'd take it if they knew what was good for them." He kicked his feet up onto the table with a carefree attitude. "So, either you're very observant, or just plain stupid." His eyes gleamed with a mischievous light.

Hanako narrowed her eyes. Obviously, he wanted her to react. She threw as neutral a look on her face as she could. "Huh, maybe," she said uncommittedly and turned a page. Then she immediately cursed herself because she hadn't read that far and had no clue what had just happened before that paragraph. She saw him frown out of the corner of her eye. She suddenly had a feeling of dread come over her and looked up at the clock, the hands were both just to the top right side. 1:10 PM. "Oh, _crap_ ," she breathed out, and started packing up her book and took the last bite out of her pastry and washed it down unceremoniously with the last of her tea.

The shinobi raised an eyebrow at her abrupt actions. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"That's my lunchbreak," she explained as she got up from the table.

Seizing the opportunity, he got up as well. "Your boss's a stickler for time, huh?"

"Not really, no," she responded.

He fell into step with her. "So, what do you do?" he asked very familiarly.

Annoyance flashed over her for a moment. "I do lot of paperwork." There. Short response. Nothing to go off of. He didn't seem deterred.

"Ahh, so do you have a name?" Hanako almost stopped up short when she felt an ominous presence that sent shivers down her spine.

"I, uh, yeah. Who are you, exactly?" She questioned, turning to face him fully.

The dark-haired shinobi looked a little off balance. "I'm Noriaki," he said and then grinned and puffed his chest out. "Chuunin combat role shinobi."

"What is that?" Hanako knew what it was, she spent the majority of her time with ANBU.

There were the main ranks, in order of skill and experience: genin, chuunin, and jounin, which each had low, mid and high designations to designate the exact position within those three ranks. However, there were also class specialties. There were a lot from what she gathered, but the main branches were Combat, Intel, and Infiltration, and a few others she couldn't remember. Maybe Medic was among those, she was halfway sure Support was another one. But anyways, she was pretty certain that there were also classifications of strength within even those branches.

Beyond those main branches, skills spread out into even more classifications. Assassination, poisons, sabotage, traps, reconnaissance, catch and kill, retrieval, combat medic, interrogation, etc. Most shinobi had more than one skill classification, usually a primary, secondary, and in some cases a tertiary skill. One of the reasons the Fire Shadow was so intimidating a figure to the shinobi wasn't just that he was smart, it was because he had somewhere in the range of six or seven classifications to his name with a high skill level. Ergo, 'The Professor.'

Noriaki launched into an explanation that Hanako halfway tuned out. He didn't stop with what he probably thought were subtle backhanded digs at how great he was and how lesser she was in comparison as a civilian. She threw in a few 'uhuh's in there. If she had a cell phone, she would have been playing on it just so that she could show how much she wasn't paying attention. What the hell was it with her and attracting these guys? Why couldn't she just find a normal guy who wasn't full of himself or didn't have to try and remind her constantly that she was a helpless civilian in comparison to him? Or wasn't so stupid as to ask her out as if he wanted to date her only to say that he didn't like her and just wanted to fuck?

"Yamada-san!" Hanako turned to see Yamashiro approaching them. Relief washed over her and she smiled brightly at him. "Who's this?" he asked when he reached the two, wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"Umeda Noriaki," the chuunin said, bowing quickly.

Yamashiro pressed his lips to Hanako's temple in a brief kiss. "Yamashiro Takanori," he introduced himself. "Are you ready to head back?" He directed the question to Hanako this time.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm late," she replied, leaning into him and playing along.

"Ah, well, I gotta go," Noriaki started. "Gotta go train with my team." He stammered a few more excuses and then fled.

"Thanks," Hanako muttered once the guy was gone. "What in hell was that?" she asked.

"That," he said, "was Umeda Noriaki. Pathetic little shit that is always trying to get with any women he possibly can. Including those out of his league. Barely made it to chuunin rank and plays himself up every chance he gets." He gave her an extra squeeze before dropping his arm from around her shoulder.

"How did you know I was here?" Hanako asked.

"Ah," he scratched the back of his neck a little nervously, "I felt someone flare their chakra a certain – _way_ ," he said. "Felt like someone I knew so I investigated. That little shit's," he pointed the direction Noriaki had fled in, "chakra sensitivity is so dull he couldn't even feel the warning. Shouldn't've even been promoted."

Hanako nodded in realization. "Ah, so that's what feeling was," she said.

Yamashiro nodded appreciatively. "Someone's been practicing."

"I got paper to stick on hand," she said proudly.

"Keep practicing and I might be able to show you a few tricks with chakra once you get better at it."

They passed by Kurosawa's and Hanako insisted on popping in to grab dango for Saito. She didn't miss the way he protectively stood by her, warding off any bystanders that might try to approach her.

"Why did you scrare off kid earlier?" Hanako asked once they were back outside of the shop.

"It's scare," he corrected her, "and I didn't scare him off. Just let him know it was time to go."

Hanako lightly knocked against his bicep with the back of her hand. "You know what I meant," she admonished.

"Mah, you looked uncomfortable and he wasn't taking the hint." He said. "Honest," he added when Hanako raised her eyebrows at him.

"Hmmmkay," Hanako replied. "I am not in need of saving."

"Never said that you did." He smiled at her.

Yamashiro snapped his fingers suddenly. "I almost forgot, there's going to be a get-together at Yamada House tonight amongst some of us, just so you know. We'll probably already be started by the time you get there."

Hanako frowned. "Was planning on telling me?"

"Telling you now. You know how it is."

"Still, more warning would be being nice."

"It's just be," he corrected. She knocked into his shoulder again good naturedly.

They idly chatted until her building came into view. Once they arrived in front, he crouched slightly and then launched himself into the air onto a roof forty feet away, waved, and then disappeared. Hanako waved back and went inside. The dango went to Saito, who was appreciative for it. Hanako herself went back up to her office. Luckily no one was waiting for her and there were no signs that anyone had been by in the time that she had been gone on her prolonged lunch break. She was a little relieved for that, considering that she had taken twice the usual length of her lunch break today.

Depositing her belongings where they belonged, she opened the windows back up to get another breeze going in the already stuffy room and heavily settled herself down in her chair. More paperwork. Great.

She picked up her pencil and calculator and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: This one's been in the works for a while but I just had trouble completing it. Sorry for the long wait, y'all.**


	14. For You

#  **Chapter 14:**

#  **_For You_ **

 

* * *

 

_For you, everything I do, every little thing I do. Since I've run away, trying make it right. So hard for me to say, trying make it right._

 

* * *

A hand twisted the key turning the locks on an old metal filing cabinet. Files were slotted down into the appropriate spots, further inspection showing that they were sorted first by a complicated symbol writing system, and then by a simpler 25-character alphabet. Being able to read both of those systems would have shown that the more complicated written language was sorted by name, while the simpler system was used to sort files into categories for those names. 

A split was created for the name _“Eiji,”_ and within that divide, a file was shoved in with the self-righteous anger of one unjustly wronged. Immediately the metal drawer was slammed shut with a satisfying clang. Hanako let out a resigned sigh and leaned back against the cabinet which contained her greatest assets as well as her greatest enemy: work files. How the world operated without cloud computing, scanners, and Excel, she didn’t know. It was a complete and total hell without them. Her right hand was constantly cramped now, and she found herself taking frequent breaks to stretch out her wrist and fingers to get rid of the stiffness.

She was eyeing getting a word processor that she had seen in a store recently in the city center of Hidden Leaves. An expensive investment, but she’d rather buy a nice one than a junk one that would jam all the time. Not to mention that she finally was processing enough paperwork that it would make more sense to have something to type with than not. She used Hiragana and Katakana for most of her work rather than the more complicated Kanji that customers would see. Any files that were only for her eyes or were rough drafts were always written in English instead. So far, she had held off buying a typewriter because since the language was character based rather than phonetic, typewriters were huge, heavy, complex things that looked more like a game of hunt and peck than not. Word processors though, some new tech that had come out of Land of Tea she thought, a new import. These things used Romanji to sound out what character was desired and then select the correct one if there were multiples. Not great for formal letters but day to day, perfect. Not to mention, perfect for writing in English. It looked to Hanako like this world was treading closer to developing computers that were less than the size of a building. More PCs than IBM mainframes.

The blonde thought back to her earlier conversation with Yamashiro while she was at a small shop on her way home. She was and wasn’t looking forward to going home. Sometimes she was just too tired to be all there during the gatherings mentally, but other times she powered through it and ended up having fun. From what she knew of the shinobi, they could have been celebrating a range of things, from the safe return of a team, a birthday, a promotion, or even merely feeling like it was a good time to celebrate being alive. The blonde didn’t know what to expect when she went home. This could be a nice, chill get-together or a loud party, depending on how many would be in attendance.

Shrugging her shoulders to herself, and reminding herself that it was the weekend, she picked out two bottles of wine. Might as well be prepared for anything. She picked up a few more odds and ends that she needed, including another nail polish color she saw near the register. Since she had forgotten to bring her fabric shopping bag, she had to pay a few more yen for a paper bag to carry everything in.

Outside, the sky was starting to darken, and shadows lengthened. Most were on their respective ways home, while a few were just starting their days. Mostly shinobi, those, but a few were what Hanako suspected were prostitutes.

Lights were already on Yamada House. She heard the gathering before she saw it. Since the shinobi wards on her home kept most sound from being heard outside, it was almost like hearing loud laughter dampened through earplugs or underwater even from right outside the door. The volume spilled out as soon as she opened the door despite the open windows. Something to do with the magic wards.

The first person to greet her wasn’t a person at all. A wet nose sniffed at her thighs before she even had a chance to shut the door. Correction: Two wet noses. A mid-sized Blue Heeler and a rather large Doberman.  Matsu and – Hanako didn’t actually know the other dog’s name. She offered her hand automatically, and the two dogs accepted the quick behind the ears scratches she gave.

True to Yamashiro’s word, there was a gathering at her home. Some ten or fifteen shinobi were crowded in her living room and kitchen, a few more spilling out onto the back patio. Her prized salami and cheeses were laid out on a platter, making her heart jump into her throat for a moment and anger start to bubble at whoever had decided _that_ of all things would make for a good party favor. From the looks of it, over half had been eaten so far. Of all the half-brained –

“Hanako-san,” exclaimed a voice, distracting her from Satan’s Charcuterie.

She turned to see who it was, items in hand as she was still putting them away. Asuka and her shock of violet hair greeted her. The blonde hugged her quickly – Asuka had been out of the village on a mission for a while and Hanako hadn’t seen her for a few months. The two started chatting quickly and catching up on what they had missed in one another’s lives. Hanako ignored some of the others there in favor of the purple haired kunoichi’s attention. She shoved the charcuterie to the back of her mind. Whoever had made it would pay, but they would pay later. A blonde shinobi gave up his place on the loveseat so that the two women could sit down. Asuka thanked him in with barely a break in her sentence as she continued to fill Hanako in on her recent exploits. Her mother had recently decided that it was in Asuka’s best interests to marry and had been parading a train of men past her, demanding that she pick one.

Hanako was a little surprised that Asuka would speak so loudly about such a personal matter in the middle of a shinobi gathering. When she expressed as much, Asuka waved her concerns off with a hand.

“Mah, they already know, it’s not exactly something the old bitch kept secret,” she said breezily.

“That’s one way to call her,” Hanako said in surprise at the epithet.

Asuka frowned and took a sip of her drink. “She earned it,” she muttered half to herself. “The pride of the Uzuki Clan, my ass.” She scoffed. “It’s not even like she was looking for shinobi men, either! They were all civilians, every single one. I wouldn’t care as much if she was at least competent in finding someone that I might like, but civilians. Does she really even know me?”

“Have you spoken to her about it?” Hanako probed. “May not know what preference really is.”

The violet-haired woman sent her a sympathetic look, as did a blonde kunoichi who was standing nearby listening in. The blonde kunoichi spoke before Asuka could. “You really are a foreigner, Yamada-san.” She continued quickly before Hanako could take offense. “Fire Country mothers aren’t just ignored. We have a rather serious familial obligation to our parents. Shinobi and those without clans are some of the only people who can defy their parents, but even for us, to talk back to your parents can be rather serious taboo.”

“And when what they want would ruin life?” Hanako said skeptically.

The blonde kunoichi perched herself on the couch arm reminiscent of a delicate bird fluttering to its perch. “Even then,” she replied. “Men get more freedom – they’re allowed to be ‘rebellious,’ but women don’t get that opportunity. Why do you think so many girls want to be kunoichi? It’s not because they want to fight and learn cool jutsu. That’s why the boys join the Academy. No, girls enter the Academy because we can be whatever we want to be, and our parents can’t tell us no.”

Hanako took a good look at the woman. Her mannerisms were delicate, her cheekbones delicate, the way she held her glass in her hand was unconsciously elegant. Her long blonde hair was swept up into a high teased ponytail, and unlike most kunoichi Hanako had seen before, she wore makeup skillfully applied, making her already striking face even more eye-catching. She made everyone around her look like a common peasant in comparison. The civilian’s automatic suspicion was that she was a spy rather than a fighter, unlike most of those who hung around Yamada House.

Asuka introduced the two blondes to one another. The elegant kunoichi’s name was Yamanaka Hayami. Hanako asked a few questions regarding the Academy and the starting ages of the children who wanted to be shinobi and how long they were required to serve for if they did. She had known, cognitively of course, that children could make a choice to be shinobi around the age of six or so, but it hadn’t really quite hit her the way it did now that they were able to make the decision against the wishes of their parents. Much more agency was given to children in this world than the one she had come from. Hanako didn’t know yet if that was a good or bad thing. Of course, the children were under their parents’ guardianship while they were in the Academy, but if they graduated and joined the ranks of shinobi, they became adults in the eyes of the laws with only their assigned sensei’s as a guardian over them. Once they graduated, their parents no longer had any real say in their lives.

Hanako took a lull in the conversation as a chance to leave so that she could change into different non-work clothes, refill her glass and snag a few of the snacks that had been placed out. Like her salami, which was being so wantonly consumed by whoever had organized the party.

Most of the shinobi were wearing either their uniforms or casual clothes; what would be dubbed athleisure in Hanako’s own world. Civilians didn’t really wear athleisure, just the shinobi. Probably because when your entire life and livelihood revolved around your physical fitness, it would reflect even in your casual clothes. She carefully laid out her work clothes out onto the hamper, taking a moment to spritz a stain remover on the neck, sleeves, and armpits of her white button-down shirt to get out any sweat stains that had gathered during the day. She looked in disgust at where the makeup stains from her foundation had made marks on the collar and spritzed that area twice. Once she’d swapped her clothes for a comfortable pair of tights and a light cotton long sleeve shirt she emerged back again.

When she returned to the living room and maneuvered around the table where a crowd had gathered around a game of shinobi beer pong, which was really just regular beer pong but with ninja cheating, she carefully maneuvered a chair out to set in the living room as her spot had been taken by Hayami. A moment or two after she sat down, she heard the clicking of nails and Hatake’s Doberman flopped down next to her feet. Remembering that nin-dogs were intelligent, she leaned over.

“We haven’t been introduced, I’m Yamada Hanako,” she said.

He lifted his pointed muzzle and looked back at her for a moment. For a moment she was about to be embarrassed for talking to a dog that couldn’t speak when he opened his mouth. “Riku. Please take care of me.” With that, he put his head back down, obviously done with pleasantries.

Hanako murmured back the proper response, only slightly subdued by Riku’s curtness, but then again, he didn’t really seem like a talker. Her attention was caught up by the game of beer pong, which looked rather intense. They weren’t opposed to using their magic tricks to blow the little balls off course, drag them to and fro, and to distract their opponents. Hanako wasn’t really cheering for either side, more excited to watch the game and the mundane, almost ridiculous usage of magic. Its casualness really drove home to her how absurdly outclassed she was in every interaction with shinobi. The best she could do with their magic was to make a piece of paper stick to her hand. Still, she watched excitedly, a delighted smile on her face, thoroughly entertained.

A short red-haired shinobi tossed his ball in a perfect arc, aimed for one of the six remaining cups on his opponent's side when it abruptly changed direction and started sailing the other way with more force than it had been thrown with. His partner batted it back with lightning-fast reflexes, and it nearly went into their opponents’ cup only to be blocked at the last moment. Cheers and jeers broke out at the last second save. The returning volley was bounced around several times. The civilian’s view was blocked by several shinobi between her and that end of the table, but it sounded just as exciting.

One thing that Hanako had observed was that ANBU weren’t all tall, heavily built tanks. There was a fair amount of them that were smaller, shorter, and far more lithe in their builds. She could almost tell which ones were in direct, heavy combat roles, and which ones were not. So far Yamanaka Hayami was the only one whom she had met that she automatically categorized as a spy-type. In a way, it was almost like trying to look at professional athletes and determine from their body-type alone what sport they played. Not always accurate, but an educated guess could get you reasonably close.

After a while, she abandoned her spot in favor of leaning against a counter in the kitchen. She still hadn’t had dinner, the snacks she had eaten so far weren’t a substitute. In fact, she was debating whether she should slip off and eat at a restaurant or snack through the fridge and run the risk of other shinobi doing the same and destroying her food supply. Considering that she had already eaten out once today, she was still waffling on the fence. But on the other hand, she could find a cheap food stand instead of a full-on restaurant. God, she missed pizza. Stuffed cheesy crust and pepperoni with jalapenos and bell peppers on top and then dipped in ranch dressing was always her favorite. She started salivating at the thought. There wasn’t such a thing here – unless she made it herself

Nope! She put a stop to the thought. There was no way she was going to try pizza dough right here and right now, especially when she didn’t know how to make it. Too much trouble.

Another cheer broke out, one of the teams had out-cheated the other and scored a point, and the opposition was taking their obligatory shots. Seizing the moment, Hanako made a slip-second decision. Grabbing her purse from its hook beside the door, she slipped out as quietly and silently as she could, masked by the sounds of the party.

 

* * *

The streetlights outside were already lit, the sky a deep purplish blue-black, but a blaze of red, pink, and orange still decorated the Western horizon. Dusk hung heavily while cicadas chirruped and chirped their songs. She heard the hoots of a few owls, but few other sounds rang out beside the distant barks of dogs from the Inuzuka compound. Swinging her arms loosely, she set out with a skip in her step. The civilian set off toward the city center, the only place where there would be any street food stands open in the evening. She walked for some ten minutes before she reached the area and began following her nose to whatever stand smelled best. It didn’t take long for her to home in on a ramen stand, lit aglow by its red and white lamps.

Ducking under the red hangings that gave customers the illusion of privacy, she stepped up to the counter to order. The hot steaming bowls provided a warm and welcoming contrast to the pleasantly fresh evening air. Hanako quickly placed an order for a bowl of beef ramen and settled down to wait for it. There were one or two other customers, mostly civilian save for a single shinobi – a genin by the looks of her, a cute little dark-haired pre-teen with a dusting of freckles across her face.

It didn’t take long for her to receive her bowl and to dig in. It was still slightly weird eating soup with chopsticks, but she made it work, albeit a little clumsily. The noodles were warm and settled in her stomach, making her feel satisfied as it hit the spot her hunger had created. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of satisfaction and contentment. There weren’t many moments when she felt completely at home in Hidden Leaves, but this was one of them. Ramen on a late crips Spring evening with the sounds of cicadas outside and light quiet conversation around her. She slowed down her pace of eating, intent on enjoying the moment.

When the blonde was half-way through her bowl, someone stepped under the hangings and entered the booth. She dimly heard them order in the background, but they didn’t quite register on her attention span until they sat next to her.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s you,” she said darkly as she recognized them.

Nails clicked against the floor and the sound of light panting floated to her ears.

The white-haired man at least had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, even if it was only just.

“Me,” he chirped lightly and leaned forward to grab a pair of chopsticks from their container on the counter. “Did you expect someone else?”

“Didn’t expect anyone,” she replied resentfully. “What are doing here, Hatake-san?”

“Are you, Yamada-san, it’s ‘are you,’” he corrected. “Can’t I enjoy a hot bowl of ramen on a nice spring evening with an attractive woman?”

She snapped her chopsticks at his to defend her egg from his attempt at theft. “Get your own,” she admonished.

“Now, now, no need to be rude.”

“Rude? Rude?” she replied. “After your idea of date,” she made finger quotes at the word, “I am one who is rude?”

“Ah, you’re still mad about that,” he said.

She stared at him.

“I am sorry about that; it didn’t go the way I had hoped.”

Silence.

The cook pushed a bowl forward on the counter toward Sakumo. He leaned forward to take it and started eating. In between bites, he continued. “I’m a bit out of practice,” he said awkwardly. Her expression softened ever so slightly. Sakumo it as an encouragement to go on. “What I said then, it came out a lot different than it did in my head. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings; it wasn’t my intention.”

Hanako hummed in response but still didn’t say anything. When Sakumo was about to speak again, she cut him off. “Then what _were_ you trying to say?” she queried suspiciously.

He opened his mouth for a moment and paused, carefully considering his next words. “Unless they’re low-level shinobi, relationships between ninja and civilians don’t often work out well. The societal difference is usually more than enough to keep it from working, but there’s also the danger that enemies will target the civilian to get to the shinobi. High-level shinobi usually try to keep their relationships with civilians secret, even if they’re only, ahem, casual.”

 “I’m a high-level jounin. I don’t mean to brag by this, it’s just the truth. I don’t have much experience with dating, I knew my wife for years before we married, and she was a competent kunoichi and could defend herself. Gods help anyone who tried to hurt her.” He smiled slightly at the memory.

He paused. Hanako realized that the sounds of conversation around them had become eerily muffled and quiet when Sakumo sat down. She looked around. It was like watching a commercial on TV with the volume turned down or on mute. Sakumo had done something to quiet the noise around them.

When it was apparent that Hanako was still listening and not dismissing him outright, Sakumo continued. “I, um, what I was trying to say at the time was that I can’t be in a relationship, not a traditional one like you might be looking for. It would have to be hidden, not public, even to the general shinobi ranks. The danger that you would be targeted by my enemies is extremely high. I made more enemies in the last war than the Legendary Three. My bounty is in more bingo books than almost any other Leaf-nin.”

“Why ask me?” Hanako said, confused. “I can’t defend self, I’m just accountant. You said yourself, wouldn’t even be proper relationship.”

“Because,” he ran his hand through his silver-white hair in a stressed-out motion, “because you’re relaxing to be around. Your chakra, being around it for long amounts of time is like taking a hit of grass. The nerves, memories, ghosts, they’re not as bad. It’s why there’s a gathering at Yamada House right now instead of a bar. That’s why you’re so protected by ANBU. It’s like a shelter in a storm – sure, you can stay in the rain for a while, but sooner or later you’re going to get sick. It helps to pull us back from that edge, even if it's just a little. And since you already have a protection detail, it wouldn’t be as dangerous. It just – it didn’t come out right last time. It sounded a lot better in my head than it did out loud. So, yeah, I’m sorry,” he ended awkwardly.

Hanako nodded her head. “I see,” she said. They both lifted their bowls to drink the rest of the broth left in them. The blonde took the opportunity to turn the new revelation over in her mind. He seemed genuine to her. But then again, he could be a good actor and just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. “I accept your apology,” she said when she set her bowl back down. “You’re still an ass, but not terrible. I don’t want relationship with you though.”

The white-haired shinobi opened his mouth as if to protest but she held a finger up to stop him. “I don’t want relationship because I don’t know you well. Friends, sure, but not intimates, lovers, whatever is called. I don’t know you well and this secret –” she waved a hand at him gesturing in his general direction “—is too much. I won’t do it. But friends is fine.”

He looked levelly at her for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. “Maybe that’s for the best.” They both stood up, bowls finished and forgotten. “I’ll walk you back?”

“Sure.”


End file.
